Pirates!
by Ryous lil Tenshi
Summary: [Yeah man... Bow down to my awesome title.] Ryou's picked as the sole survivor of a village raid by a band of pirates, for the purpose of becoming the head captains' personal slave. You know how the story goes. But this isn't the cliche, I swear. Really.
1. Chapter 1

Hehehehe... New fic yay! I know, I know, very very naughty. Now I have... Four? Five at once? Eheheheheh...

-wince- Oh well. I just liked this idea. I hope you do too XD

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the plot. Mebbe half of the plot. Well, not half.

Props to Ashley AKA Youko Kitsune's girl, for coming up with this idea XD

* * *

It was so quiet…

Bakura smirked, his boots clunking heavily against the salt-worn boards of the deck. Twenty pairs of eyes followed him as he walked, his head held high and hands behind his back.

"Just the usual tonight, boys." Bakura's voice filled the air. "I know you're all a-hankering for summat shiny." He started walking past the row of men, smirking. True, they didn't look like much, a motley looking crew of rags and eye patches, but Bakura thought he had the best crew in the world. The man smirked. "But tonight, we'll be a-saving the cannonballs, so make sure you load up your guns." Twenty heads nodded. "I'll stay here." Bakura paused at the end of the row, and clapped a hand on a bony shoulder. "With Malik." Lavender eyes stared up at him sullenly. "Don't give me that look."

"Want anything?" A blonde head peeked out from the line of straight backs. Bakura looked up, and arched a slender white eyebrow. "Sir?"

"Well..." Bakura stepped back from Malik, who growled gently, crossing his arms. "A bit of company would be nice… If you get my drift." Everyone smiled nastily. "You know what I like."

"Yes sir." Joey smirked. "No other cut?" Bakura shook his head, and turned on his heel. He stared out across the bay. The Black Grail was crouched like a spider in the corner of it's web. Although the moon was full, it was shrouded in thick cloud, completely hiding the pirate ship.

"Nah." Bakura smirked at the small English town, clinging to the large rocks. There were only a few little sparks of little, oil lamps still flickering at this late hour. It was miles away from anywhere, it's port was almost empty, and they had no army. Bakura couldn't have thought up a better place to raid if he tried. "Orright." Bakura spun around on his heel again, scrutinizing his crew. "Move out!" The ragged band all nodded emphatically, scurrying across the deck to the lifeboats. Only Malik remained behind, staring down at his bare feet.

"'Snot fair." He muttered, crossing his bony arms. Bakura only sighed, and rolled his eyes.

"Malik Ishtar, you are the most _unruly_ little slave I have ever met-"

"I'm not!" The words that tumbled from those lips were cold with anger. Bakura only frowned, his hands on his hips. "I'm not." He repeated weakly, shaking his head. Strands of blonde hair fell into his eyes, but he ignored them.

"I _should_ punish you for your defiance." Bakura muttered through gritted teeth, staring at the Egyptian. "But I won't." Malik only bit his lip, and looked away.

"I thought you didn't play favourites." He sighed, shuffling his feet. Bakura stared at the teenager for a long moment, before looking away.

"I don't." The pirate captain turned away. "Now come downstairs and I'll give you a game of Rummy."

Malik nodded, staring out over the sea. He could just make out the tiny shapes of lifeboats skimming across the water, heading to the town. _Oh man._

* * *

Ryou sighed to himself settling against the pillows. He held _Othello_ in his hands, and his wide brown eyes were focused on the pages intently. The thick book was a gift from his tutor, in celebrance of his fifteenth birthday three days ago, and he was already up to Act V. The oil lamp at his bedside table burned brightly, effectively lighting up the page. The sky was as black as ink inside, and it was very cold, but Ryou, curled up in bed under his thick blankets, was warm and comfortable. He was so entranced, and caught up in the play, that he was totally shut off to the rest of the world. He never heard the thumps of the pirates as they jumped onto the dock, or the bangs of wooden doors being knocked down.

He jumped, though, at the first gunshot. Ryou tore his eyes away from the page, a stab of fear slicing through his heart. He placed his thumb in the page, and got up on his knees, to look out the little window that hung over his bed. What he saw made his jaws drop.

Pirates.

The band of thieves were running down the little lane, guns and torches in hand. They ran into the houses, and came back with sacks of loot. They stabbed and shot down those who stood in their way, or tried to defend their treasures, even the women and children. Ryou fell back on his rear, the book tumbling to the mattress.

_No!_

Ryou gasped, freezing. His limbs started shaking, and he looked over to the lamp. _Put it out!_ He scrambled across his comfortable bed, his trembling fingers groping for the little tweak on his lamp. He turned it, shutting out the light. Now, the only light that entered the room was the light that came from the flames outside. They'd started lighting the looted houses on fire, locking doors and torching the wooden houses with families still locked inside. Ryou whimpered, and looked around his room. He was exhausted from staying up half the night reading for the past two days, but now Ryou was alert. His chocolate orbs darted to his bed, and the small space underneath it. His heart thudding in fear, the teenager flung himself down onto the floorboards, and rolled. The valance dangled over the bed, hiding the teenager from view. Ryou scooted across the floorboards, which were coated in a thick sheen of dust (Ryou never swept under his bed like he was supposed to), until he was pressed against the wall, shivering in his thin nightshirt.

"Don't come to us." Ryou begged, pressing his face against the wood. "Please… Leave Mother and Father and I alone…" He bit on his lip hard, clenching his hands together. He tried to make himself as small as possible, his heart thudding in his ribcage like a drum in his chest.

Ryou squeaked as the door to his house banged open. He whimpered, holding his hands over his head. _Go away, go away, go away_…

The town had always feared pirates. Being a tiny little settlement of less than two hundred people, they were always prone to attack. And because they were so far away from any other help… It had become a safeguard, a tradition, for all of the young boys to receive combat, in case such an even happened. But that would be nothing against hardened pirates, Ryou had always known.

Tears pricked the whitnette's eyes as he heard screams downstairs. They sounded like Mother… If Ryou was stronger and braver, he would run downstairs, hollering and yelling, and grabbing the sword over the mantle to protect himself and his mother. But he wasn't. He was a scholar, not a fighter. And although he heard thuds, and heavy footsteps growing ever closer to his room, Ryou was just too scared to move a muscle, for fear he would get caught.

The door to his room was opened so forcefully, that it rebounded against the wall hard. Ryou gasped, and then held a hand over his mouth. The urge to cry grew.

"'ello?" The whitenette's voice crawled at the drawling, accented voice.

"No one's here, Joe. No shiny shit in here, let's go."

"Wait." Ryou held his breath as he heard the first man walking across the floorboards, to his bedside table. Joey pressed an index finger against the glass shade of Ryou's oil lamp, and jumped back.

"Fuck. That's hot. The brat's in here somewhere." Ryou's eyes widened, and his heart was beating painfully. The teenager tried to stop it, to quieten his pounding heart for fear that the pirates would be able to hear it. Joey's coffee coloured eyes scanned the room, and settled on the bed. "Aha."

_No!_ Ryou mentally screamed, starting to hyperventilate as Joeys' feet stopped beside the bed. He backed into the little corner the bed was pressed against desperately, shivering in the cold. Joey bent down, and grabbed the valance in his grimy hands. Rather than just lifting it up, he tore the section of material away completely, and peered underneath the bed.

"Hello." Ryou yelped, trying to back under the bed even further at the sight of the ragged-looking blonde. There was a flash of gold teeth, bared in a grin, before Ryou felt a bony hand on his hair. Joey smiled at the teens screams as he wound a hand around Ryou's silky white locks, dragging him out from under the bed. The whitenette thrashed in desperation every inch of the way, but his strength was no match for the hardened vagrant.

"Let me go!" Ryou yelped, trying to claw at Joeys hands, and failing. The blonde only smirked, easily pinning Ryou to the ground with one hand. He brushed the soft locks away from Ryou's face with his free hand, his breath catching in his throat as he stared down at Ryou's face.

"Fuck she's pretty." Ryou gasped as a second face hovered over him, and he closed his eyes. Tristan smirked.

"I'm not a girl…" He whimpered. The teenager honestly thought that this would improve his bleak situation, but Joey's smile grew, and he raised his eyes up to look at Tristan.

"Really?" Joey leaned over a little, to whisper into Ryou's ear. "That's good luck then." Ryou froze. "Our captain just _loves_ young boys, don't 'e, Tristan?" The whitenette's eyes swelled in fear, and he started struggling madly again. Tears pricked at his eyes in horror. This wasn't happening… This _couldn't_ be happening! He's obviously fallen asleep whilst reading _Othello_. Yeah… That was it.

"Let me go!" Ryou cried out as Joey stood up. He wrapped his arms easily around Ryou's chest. The teenage was crying, knowing that the blonde who held him in this grip could easily crush his ribs, if he wanted to. "_Please_." Joey and Tristan only laughed.

"Hear that?" Joey walked across the room easily, Ryou starting to cry. "The brat's got manners. Bet 'es aristocratic." The blonde pirate had a little trouble getting his tongue around the last word. Tristan laughed.

"I'm not." Ryou moaned. "People think I am because of my appearance, but I'm not…" He hiccupped on the last word, sobbing. "I-I'm not worth anything… Please let me go…"

"'E speaks like a right royal." Joey yanked hard on Ryou's hair, forcing the teenager to look him in the eye. "Mebbe e's worth summat."

"I'm not." Ryou moaned weakly, shaking his head. "I'm not… Please, I'm just a little villager. I-I have nothing for you to take…"

"He knows his letters." Tristan held up the copy of _Othello_, which was still on the bedside table. "Pretty smart for a villager."

"Let me go." Ryou whispered, bowing his head. "I-I'm nothing special, I swear. Please… Please… Let me go. I-I beg of you…" Joey only laughed.

"Sorry kid. I got orders from the 'ead cheese, see." The blonde started walking towards the door, Ryou screaming and crying in his arms. Tristan followed, slamming the door behind him. Ryou moaned weakly, beating his fists against Joey's side, but to no avail. "Did ya get the shit from the rooms?" Tristan ginned, shaking the sack he held in his left hand. Ryou's eyes widened at the sound of clinking metals.

"I-Is that our pewter?" He cried out, kicking his feet against Joey's shin and having absolutely no effect on the pirate. "Y-You thieving scoundrels! Those were my fathers…"

"'E don't need it." Joey smirked nastily as the reached the bottom of the narrow stairs, crossing the entranceway to the main living room. Ryou's heart froze as he caught a glimpse of two still bodies sprawled across the floor, blood spreading across the floorboards.

"No." He gasped, his mouth falling open. Silver bangs fell into his eyes, but he didn't bother trying to brush them away. "_No._" His parents… They weren't… They _couldn't._ Ryou sank, limp in Joey's arms, closing his eyes. "No no no no no no no no no..." The blonde raised an eyebrow at Ryou's mantra, casting an eye over to the shaking form in his arms. Ryou bowed his head as he cried, his breathing coming out in harsh, shallow gasps as he sobbed.

The single street of the tiny fishing town was lined with shattered pieces of furniture and dead bodies. Most of the houses at this point were burning, and the only people that still lived were the vagrant pirates, shooting from their guns and laughing in sadistic pleasure at what they had done.

"Joey!" The blonde grinned as a tall, bony figure stopped beside him, a heavy sack in one hand. The pirate's emerald eyes gleamed mischievously.

"Devlin." The blonde smirked. "I got Bakura's share 'ere." He jerked his head to the limp figure in his arms. Ryou had stopped struggling, and he just stared at the scene as it unfolded before him, his eyes as wide as saucers and his lip trembling.

"Y-You…" Ryou started hyperventilating, shaking his head. _"No._" Joey only laughed, turning away from Devlin and starting towards the only dock.

"Get the rest of 'em." Joey called over his shoulder. "Come on, Tristan." The brunette followed, shifting the sack to his other hand to relieve some of the stress on his wrist.

"No!" Ryou started screaming, thrashing about in Joey's arms once more. "_No!"_ Joey swore as Ryou managed to kick him just above his knee, and bit his lip. He managed to stagger across the docks, however, jumping into the large lifeboat that had been tied there. Tristan followed suit, the sack clanking heavily in the bottom. Ryou was shaking his head as he fought against Joey, sobbing.

"Aw, bloody 'ell." Joey grumbled as he kept Ryou's arms pinned against his sides. "Calm _down_, you slippery little-"

"No!" Ryou howled, thrashing about like an eel. "Let me go! I _demand_ you unhand me right now, you filthy little-"

"OI!" Ryou gasped as Joey slapped him roughly across the face. The force of the blow turned Ryou's face to one side, and he stared out across the water, shaking. "You _watch _it boy, or I'll cut yer tongue out." Ryou closed his eyes, pressing his lips together as he fought back a fresh wave of tears. "Come on Tristan, give me the stuff." The brown-haired man smirked, and started fumbling with a different stack underneath the boards of the boat.

"Found it." Ryou whimpered as Tristan's hand closed around a small glass bottle. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he felt sick with grief and fear and shock. The impact of his parents dead, and his town totally destroyed, was yet to fully sink in. Ryou's eyes widened as Tristan uncorked the bottle, his tearful chocolate orbs lingering on the thick brown liquid that was inside.

"Don't…" Ryou whimpered as Joey forced his head back. He cried, struggling in vain. Tristan smirked, starting to tip the bottle over Ryou's face. The whitenette closed his mouth firmly, turning his face away. Joey sneered, gripping Ryou's face firmly and holding it in place. Ryou whimpered as Tristan's spare hand tried to force his mouth open, his feet kicking in desperation. The whitenette kept his lips firmly together however, and Tristan wasn't able to prise them open. He changed tack, however, and pinched Ryou's little nose easily with his bony fingers. Ryou's eyes widened, and fresh tears filled his eyes. He tried his hardest to hold his breath, slowing the pace of his limbs in order to preserve his oxygen. He couldn't breathe at all, and his lungs were burning. Ryou closed his eyes as he started to feel dizzy, whimpering. Eventually, the whitenette parted his lips, taking a deep gasp of air, which was cool and soothing against his burning lungs. Tristan immediately upended the bottle over Ryou's mouth, until a good amount had been poured down his throat. Tristan sat back, removing his hands from Ryou's nose and corking the bottle the once more. Ryou coughed and spluttered as the liquid trickled down his throat. It was _awful_, burning his insides like a fire. Joey chuckled as Ryou gasped for air, choking.

"Nighty night." Joey released his hold on Ryou, who tumbled to the floor of the boat, moaning. The heavily-drugged liquid worked on Ryou almost immediately, and the docile teenager could feel his vision darkening, and his limbs growing numb…

He was out in another few moments, sprawled out along the floor of the boat, which rocked from side to side as more and more of the pirate crew jumped into the boat, all hefting sacks of semi-precious belongings with them. The boat was dangerously low in the water as six of them started to row, which earned the crew a bit of water in the bottom of the boat whenever they hit a large wave. That, coupled with a small leak in the boards, meant there was a fair bit of water sloshing around the bottom of the boat. Ryou groaned weakly, his clothes and hair sodden with dirty, salty water, unconscious.

And his hometown, the place where he was born, where he had never, ever left in his whole life before now, slowly burned to the ground.

* * *

Yey! It's finished! I dunno when I'll be able to update, though. Not because I don't want to, or anything. But because I am GETTING A NEW COMPUTER FUCK YES! -danceswildly- I just hope Mum can steal MS Office for me X.x;;;

R&R!!!

Bwaha.


	2. Chapter 2

Yeaaaahhh update:D I kow it's a bit short, but I'm trying to shorten my chapters, so's There's quicker updates XD

Oh, and UBER PROPS To Kara Mcpherson (AKA Kerry) For sorting out my uploading issues. You are so Super Special awesome! Glompage! (OMFG TAS REFERENCE... IN AMERICA XD XD XD)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Aren't you jealous :D

* * *

It was the rocking of the ship that woke Ryou up. 

He groaned, foggy brown eyes opening as he was pulled from unconsciousness. The whitenette sighed as he lifted his head, and began to make his way out of bed.

That was when he realised he was tied down.

Ryou's chocolate eyes widened in shock, and he started to scream. Sadly, though, there was a gag tied around his mouth, and all that came out was a muffled cry. Tears of panic filled Ryou's eyes as the realization of what had happened sank in.

He was on a pirate ship. Pirates came and kidnapped him and robbed their house and razed the town and killed his parents.

His parents.

Ryou sank into the mattress with a low moan, closing his eyes. He was sprawled out along the bed spread-eagled, his wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts. With a stab of shock, Ryou noticed he was naked, save for a sheet that covered his waist and thighs.

_No._ The words of the pirate came back to Ryou. Whoever this was that captured him, it was obvious what their intentions were. Ryou started to cry, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed in fear and shock. This wasn't happening. He refused to believe this was happening. This was obviously his overactive imagination again. He must have fallen asleep. This wasn't happening... It couldn't be.

"My, my." Ryou froze at the cold voice, his eyes widening in fear. There was a large window on one wall, and the full moon cast silver rays over the room. Ryou could see a tall slender figure with wild hair slowly walk across the room, his boots thudding on the wooden floorboards. Ryou was shaking as he started yanking furiously at his writs and ankles, trying to escape from his bonds.

"Now, now." Ryou was sure he heard a smile in the mans' voice. "You don't want to be bruising your pretty skin." The teenagers' breath caught in his throat as he felt a cold hand on his ankle, and looked down. The man was hovering over the bed. Ryou turned away, giving a long, shuddering gasp. The man smirked as he trailed his fingertips up Ryou's leg, admiring the way the perfect alabaster skin shone in the moonlight. Ryou let out a long moan, shaking his head as he stared up at the stranger, his brown eyes wide and imploring.

"Do you know who I am?" The man purred as he bent over, his straggling white locks brushing Ryou's bare chest. The teenager whimpered as he shook his head, tearstains streaking his cheeks. "Oh deary me." Ryou looked down, before closing his eyes, his shoulders shaking with sobs. "Have you ever heard of the Black Grail?" Ryou's eyes snapped open, as he stared up at the man. "I'll take that as a yes then."

_I'm not._ Ryou started to panic. The Black Grail was a renowned ship all through England and Ireland, and part of even Spain and France- infamously. _I'm on the worst pirate ship in Europe tied naked to a bed with a crazy man hanging over me. Help me please, someone... Please..._

"Somebody's smart." The man mocked as his fingers brushed Ryou's face. The teenager gasped, closing his eyes and flinching away from the touch. "The name's Bakura, by the way." Bakura chuckled as he groped around for the tie of the gag. Ryou blinked as the pressure around his mouth was released, before realising the gag was gone. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to scream. Before he could, however, Bakura clapped a grimy hand over his perfect pale lips. Ryou's eyes stared up at the pirate captain, as he sobbed.

"Please..." He moaned, beneath Bakura's hand. "Don't... Please don't hurt me... Please..." Bakura only chuckled, his free hand cupping the side of Ryou's face. After a moment, Bakura lifted his hand away from Ryou's face, purely so he could stare down at his beautiful features, untainted by his grimy hand. "Please..." Ryou begged, crying. "I-I know what it is you want to do with me... Please, you cannot..."

"I cannot?" Bakura only raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Somebody has a fancy speaking pattern for a peasant in a run-down fishing village." Ryou visibly bristled, and Bakura smirked, knowing he had pushed a sensitive button. The captain sat down on the bed, despite a cry of protest from the teenager, one finger gently trailing down Ryou's cheek and chin, before starting to trace light patterns in his chest. The whitenette squirmed at the touch, whimpering.

"Do not touch me." Ryou whispered hoarsely, struggling desperately. "Please... Let me go." Bakura raised an eyebrow, staring down at those big brown eyes. The kid was just _beautiful._ "I-I beseech you..."

"Do you now?" The captain purred, his other hand stroking long white hair. "Well, that's just a crying shame now, isn't it? Because I'm afraid I just _can't _let you go." Ryou's breathing came out in harsh, punctuated gasps, and he was shaking.

"Please." He whispered as he cried. "Please... Please... Please... I will not run away, I promise." Bakura only shook his head, smirking.

"It doesn't matter." He purred in Ryou's ear, both of his hands groping Ryou's arm, down to his wrist. Ryou whimpered, trembling. The man found the leather strap, and easily untied the knot, leaving Ryou's cold arm sprawled across the mattress. Ryou instantly brought the skinny, quivering limb into his chest, closing his eyes. "Heh." Bakura sat back, now turning his attention to the pale, creamy legs of the teenager beneath him. Ryou froze, his eyes widening and breath freezing in his throat. Bakura smirked as he ran his hands down one of Ryou's legs, enjoying the silky feel of his skin. Ryou whimpered, too afraid to move as Bakura's hands eventually cupped his ankle and heel, before he started untying the leather cuff at Ryou's foot. He winced at the sight of the beginning of bruises against the pale skin, biting his lip. He didn't want to hurt this little beauty. Yet.

"Please..." Ryou whispered as Bakura's hands started to trail down his other leg. Bakura untied the leather strap silently, trying to be as careful as possible. Ryou was slumped into the bed, shivering in cold and fear, one arm still tied to the bedpost. "Please..." He stared up at Bakura as he untied the last strap. "I-I want to go home..." Bakura only laughed, throwing his head back as his harsh voice echoed around the room. He looked back down at the figure, who was shaking and crying, smirking.

"But you can't." He leaned in, purring in Ryou's ear. "It's all razed to the ground. All the houses, the carts... We burned everything, and left none alive. Not even the animals." Ryou cried harder, shaking his head. "Yes."

"No..." He whispered brokenly, hyperventilating. "Y-You cannot do this..." Bakura held Ryou's face in both hands, his hands cupping Ryou's jawbone. He stared down into those wide brown eyes, full of hurt and pain and fear.

And he loved it. Bakura just kept staring down at the angel, spread out on the bed below him. It was astonishing, to think someone this delicate and feminine could be male, but he was. Ryou was crying silently, staring up at Bakura with those large brown eyes, begging, imploring Bakura to let him go.

"And why can't I?" Bakura leaned over to whisper the words into Ryou's ear, soft strand of pearly white hair tickling his nose. "Huh?" Ryou was shaking, his hands clenched into fists, grasping the sheet.

"Please..." Ryou looked down at his hands, biting on his lower lip. "P-Please..." He waited until Bakura was settled back a little, before Ryou made his move. He drew his knee up sharply, the bony limb colliding with Bakura's stomach. The pirate captain jumped back, clutching at his stomach and swearing, winded. Ryou didn't waste a moment, quickly rolling over, and tumbling off the bed, one hand firmly clutching the sheet around his slender waist. Bakura straightened up as Ryou half-ran, half-staggered across the room, tearing towards the door. The white-haired man swore, and leaped across the bed, but he wasn't fast enough. Ryou's free hand rattled the doorknob desperately, and within a moment, he yanked the door open and ran outside onto the deck.

The teenager froze for a moment. The deck was bathed in moonlight, lighting everything up in a brilliant silver. He clenched his hand tighter on the sheet, and ran towards the closest railing he could find, intent on looking for land, maybe even screaming for help. Bakura was standing in the doorway, an odd smirk on his face. Ryou leaned over the side of the ship, his heart slowly sinking as the horrible truth came to him.

There was no land.

Ryou's eyes widened, and he shook his head slowly. Tears filled the teenagers' eyes as he spun around on his heel, before crossing the deck, his feet thudding against the wooden boards. His long hair fell over his face as he leaned over the other side of the deck, his brown eyes wide in horror as he scanned the pitch-black ocean. If there was any land, then the moonlight would be illuminating it. But Ryou could see nothing. He was shaking as he took a step back, his heart thudding in his chest.

"No." He whispered, desperately shaking his head from side to side. "N-No... No..." He was so wrapped up in his fear, that he didn't hear the thudding of footsteps approach him. "NO!" Ryou screamed, clenching his eyes shut. "HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!" Ryou screamed as Bakura grabbed at his arms, pulling the trembling frame against his chest. He wrapped one arm around Ryou's chest, pinning his arms to his sides, and roughly slammed the other over Ryou's mouth.

"Hey." He muttered, without emotion. "You'll wake up the rest of my crew." Ryou continued screaming, the desperate sound muffled by Bakura's hand. "Hey!" The captain rolled his eyes as he turned around and started walking back into his quarters, easily lifting the skinny teenager off the ground. Ryou struggled and thrashed, but his efforts were in vain. In fact, all he managed to do was disrupt the sheet he had wrapped carefully around his waist, which was slowly starting to creep down his hips. "Stop!" Bakura growled, kicking the door shut behind him as he walked into his room. He dumped Ryou easily on the bed, who, after readjusting his sheet, immediately backed away into a corner of the bed, wrapping his arms around his legs and trembling. He was hyperventilating, fresh tears of pure panic running down his cheeks.

"Go to sleep." Bakura muttered, shrugging off his coat and throwing it to the floor. Ryou's eyes widened, and he whimpered, shrinking away from the yami with his eyes downcast. "Oh, bloody hell, I'm not going to hurt you tonight." He was starting to get annoyed with the teenager. None of the other boys' had reacted _this_ badly. "Just get some sleep and shut up." Ryou pressed his lips together tightly, before closing his eyes.

"I-I'm cold..." He finally whispered, shivering slightly. "P-Please... I-I'm s-so v-very c-cold..." Bakura rolled his eyes, before wandering over to a chest in the corner of the room. Ryou watched as the man rifled through various items of clothing, before extracting a cream-coloured night shirt.

"Pull this on." He muttered, carelessly tossing the garment in Ryou's direction, crossing his arms. Ryou blinked, and gently picked up the night shirt, lifting it to his nose. It _smelled_ clean. "You're supposed to wear it, not smell it."

"I-I know." Ryou's face flushed in embarrassment, and he looked down. "U-Um... I-I beg your pardon, but... But do you think you could..." Ryou's face blushed a darker red, and he looked down, letting the sentence dangle in mid-air. Bakura snorted, but turned away, his arms still crossed as he stared out the window. He could hear the shuffle of clothes on skin behind him, and resisted the urge to turn around. "Th-Thank you." Ryou whispered gently, fearfully. Bakura merely crossed the room, before sitting down on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots. Ryou watched in odd fascination as the captain unbuttoned his waistcoat and casted it to the floor. Three guns in their holsters, a sword, and a dagger all followed, as well as a pair of dirty grey socks, until Bakura stood in his white linen shirt and dirty breeches.

"Lie down." Bakura commanded as he stood up again, walking around to the other side of the bed. Shaking, Ryou complied, curling on his side away from Bakura, his hands covering his face. "Oh, stop it."

"S-Sorry..." Ryou whispered gently, his face turning a darker shade of pink again. Bakura picked up the feather eiderdown that was folded at the foot of the bed, and carelessly threw it over the bed, making sure there was too much blanket on his side, and not enough on Ryou's. The white-haired teenager sniffed, and grabbed the edge of the thick blanket, pulling as much of it over his slim, trembling frame as he could. Bakura flopped down onto the bed with a sigh, spread eagled on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Go to sleep." He muttered, fluffing the pillow under his head. He looked over at Ryou, but all he could see was his back, and a tangles mess of long white locks. He shook his head, before closing his eyes, settling into the mattress. Ryou's breathing was still punctuated by shuddering gasps and sobs, but Bakura decided to let it go.

It was so _strange_. When Joey first showed Bakura the kidnapped teenager slung over his shoulder, he was in shock. His first mate had really outdone himself this time, there was no denying it. He'd stripped Ryou, and tied him to the bed himself, before sitting on the edge of the mattress, staring down at the drugged teen for almost an hour. Usually, Bakura beat and raped his new toys on the very first night, and continued the treatment until he was able to get a replacement, which ranged from a few days to a month or so. He never thought it anything of it. They were just tools, just an outlet for Bakura and his sick experimentation. But this sleeping angel, shaking and crying as he tried to pretend he was asleep, was... Different. Bakura had a bit of a funny feeling in his stomach. It was like... Like he didn't _want_ to abuse and rape him. Like maybe it would be better to not do it that night. Bakura still felt the same pang of sadistic enjoyment as he watched Ryou cry or scream in pain and fear, and his mannerisms both repulsed and fascinated him.

_I won't take him tonight._ Bakura concluded, wiggling his toes under the thick blanket. _He's exhausted. He'd hardly fight back, and it's no fun if they're not fighting back. The points gone._ The man let out a long sigh, his hands behind his head, underneath the pillow.

_Yeah. Tomorrow. I'll sort my shit out in the morning_. He chuckled under his breath in the near-darkness.

Ryou whimpered.

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Yeah dude... PH34R M3 and my short, one-scene chapters! 

I dunno, it just seemed like a good place to end it. That, and it's 3AM and I'm wiped after an 8-hour work shift.

R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

Ack! I shouldnt even update this! I should be in bed... I have to get up early tomorrow...

Well, here's chapter 3. Hope you like it!

Disclaimerl: I own nothing. NOTHING.

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"Good morning." Ryou froze at the mocking tone, his eyes widening as he clutched the sheets desperately. Bakura smirked as he placed a hand on Ryou's shoulder, forcing the slim teenager to roll over onto his back and look the pirate captain in the eye. "Is it not?"

"P-Please let me go..." Ryou stammered as he closed his eyes. He just couldn't look into Bakura's face. He was so _cruel_.

"Oh come now." Bakura purred as he leaned in closer, hovering over the teenagers' face. "Open those pretty brown eyes and give me a look, huh?" Ryou whimpered, keeping his eyes firmly shut tight. The bright of Bakura's nose creased in a frown. "I _said_," He lowered his voice, his hand on Ryou's shoulder tightening. "Open your eyes." Ryou gasped, and his eyes snapped open in fright. He stared up at that man, trembling. "What are you so scared of?" Ryou stared down at the whitenette with half-lidded eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Y-Yes..." Ryou stammered in a whisper. "Y-You are... Y-you k-killed my p-parents..." Ryou hiccupped as he closed his eyes again, turning his face away as he started to cry.

"_I _didn't." Bakura rolled his eyes. "That would have been Joey. He's fucking insane." Ryou buried his face in the pillow, sobbing. "Hey." Bakura rubbed at his eyes with his free hands. "_I'm_ not going to hurt you... And no one else will, either." He added, as an afterthought. "Trust me. The crew knows that you're mine. They won't touch you unless they want a beating. Or worse."

"I am not..." Ryou whispered pathetically as he hugged the pillow. He felt so scared, and so alone... "I am not yours..."

"Ryou." Bakura snorted. "Does that mean that if I stole gold, it wouldn't be mine? What if I stole a ship?"

"That is different!" Ryou's voice was muffled by the pillow. "I-I am a person... I am a living thing, Bakura..."

"Fine then." Bakura smirked. "What if I stole a dog? Or a slave? Wouldn't that belong to me?"

"I am not a slave!" Ryou protested, his hands tightening on the pillow. "Or a dog." He added tearfully.

"You're _my_ slave." Bakura smiled as he moved Ryou's shoulder, forcing the teen to shift his position. Ryou gasped, and yelped as he was forced to roll over onto his back, looking Bakura in the eye.

"I-I am not your slave." Ryou said weakly, shaking. "I am a person. A real person."

"So... Slaves aren't real people?" Bakura raised an eyebrow. Ryou's chin was trembling.

"Th-they are..." He breathed. "B-But I am not a slave. S-Slavery is something you are born into, and I was not born into-" Ryou bit his lip, looking away. Bakura narrowed his eyes, and was about to respond, when the knocking of the door broke his train of thought.

"Master Bakura?" A sandy blonde head peeked into the room. Bakura groaned, and straightened his back, turning around to stare at Malik.

"Yes?" He asked testily. "Can't you see I am _busy?_" Ryou whimpered, shrinking away from Bakura and hiding in the pillow again. Malik opened his mouth to speak, when he saw what it was that was keeping Bakura 'busy'.

"Oh..." Malik breathed, staring at the teenager. "Well..." Bakura arched an eyebrow. "I was just saying that breakfast is ready, is all. Devlin doesn't want you to be too late, cos he said it's the first mutton we've had in ages and he doesn't want to overcook it." Bakura perked up.

"Our first bit of meat in almost a month." Bakura muttered. "Give me five minutes." Malik nodded, and closed the door gently. Ryou clung to the pillow still, crying softly.

"I-I am not hungry." He whispered gently. "P-Please... May I stay in bed?" Bakura arched an eyebrow.

"But you know what kind of slave lounges about in bed all day, don't you?" He smirked, leaning over to whisper the words in Ryou's ear. The whitenette froze, and Bakura chuckled. "No?"

Ryou rubbed at his eyes as he sat up, not looking at Bakura. The yami arched an eyebrow as he stared at the teen, who was biting his lip hard, looking down at his hands. Ryou kept his eyes lowered as he gently lowered the blankets, until they were tangled around his waist.

"M-May I have some new clothes?" Ryou's hair was in his eyes as he looked up to Bakura, his chocolate orbs wide and pleading. The pirate raised an eyebrow. "Y-You can not expect me to wear my nightshirt..."

"Fine." Bakura groaned as he stood up, arching his back as he yawned and stretched. Ryou kept his eyes downcast, his hands shaking. "Did you sleep much last night?" He gave the slim teenager a fleeting glimpse. Ryou shook his head, soft white hair falling into his eyes again. "Why not?"

"I-I was so scared..." Ryou whispered, bowing his head. "I-I am so afraid, Bakura." The white-haired man only raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Why?" Ryou gasped, incredulous. "M-My home... My family... Everything is gone! Y-You have no idea how upset I am because of this..." Bakura only shook his head as he shuffled through the chest of clothes, looking for things that would fit Ryou.

"You'll get over it." Bakura muttered, his hand closing around a dirty shirt. He smirked as he stood up and turned around, the clothes he chose for Ryou in his arms. "You'll see how fun it is to be mine." Ryou visibly bristled, and he raised his head up to look at Bakura.

"I-I am not yours." Ryou breathed, shaking his head slowly. "I am _not._" Bakura only snorted.

"Whatever." He muttered, dumping the clothes on the bed for Ryou to paw through. The captain grabbed his own clothes from the tilting floor, and pulled them on, staring out the window out over the ocean.

"These clothes are filthy!" Ryou protested, wrinkling his nose. "You can not possibly expect me to wear this, can you?" Silence. "Bakura, answer me!"

"_Listen_." Bakura turned on his heel, a snarl on his face. "Those clothes you hold are nicer than the rags my crew wear! You're on a pirate ship now, Ryou. And these airs and graces, your high standards, they're not going to be tolerated. You were spared for one reason only- to be mine. No one but me is going to treat you softly. Get used to it." Ryou looked down, his chin trembling. "Get dressed." Bakura walked around to the other side of the bed, and sat down on the edge, reaching down and seizing his boots. Ryou was crying softly as he slid the rough, stained trousers up his legs, fastening them underneath the nightshirt. After a moments reluctance, the teenager pulled it off, grabbing the smelly, ragged, once-white shirt. Bakura turned and watched as Ryou slowly buttoned up the shirt, his hands shaking.

"I-I am finished," Ryou whispered, standing up and turning around. Bakura nodded in approval, eyeing the slim teenager. Ryou could look pretty in anything, even in ragged brown breeches and a too-large stained shirt, the hem of the sleeves draping past Ryou's fingertips.

"Good." Bakura snarled. He walked around the bed once more, a pale, clawlike hand striking out, grasping Ryou's slim, bony wrist. "Come on." He yanked on the teenagers' arm forcefully, stomping across the wooden floorboards, dragging a reluctant Ryou along behind him.

"Ow!" Ryou gasped, making a face as he was pulled. "Please, refrain from tugging me so hard..." Bakura growled, a rumbling sound deep in the base of his throat as he pushed the door open, stomping out across the upper deck.

"Don't speak." He snarled. "Your speech pattern annoys me. Where were you brought up, the main court of bloody England?" Ryou bit his lip, looking away. Bakura bit back a snarl. Why was this kid irritating him so much? He'd had so many young boys before, who fought back harder than Ryou, who kicked up much more of a fuss, who complained so much more...

"Please slow down." Ryou begged as he was pulled down the small flight of stairs that led onto the main deck. "Y-You are hurting me..."

"Shut it." Bakura growled, pushing open the wooden door that led to the below deck quarters. "No complaining, either. You'll learn to harden up soon Ryou, don't worry." Ryou bit his lip as he was dragged down the dark, trying to adjust through the blackness.

"Men!" Bakura made his grand entrance as he entered the long, dark room. Twenty heads jerked up, and the sound of chairs scraping against rough-hewn boards filled the room as they all dashed to their feet.

"Captain." Devlin bowed respectively as Bakura made his way down the room, heading towards the head of the table, where he sat. Breakfast was the only meal Bakura ate with his crew, and he liked to screw around with them. Ryou bit his lip as he trailed behind the captain, Bakura tightly dragging him along by his hand. His heart thudded in his chest as he stared around at the ragged crew, who leered down on him.

"At ease." Bakura barked as he stood behind his designated chair. The gaggle of men all sat, save Devlin who waited by the door, a large saucepan in one hand, a ladle in the other. "You sit there." Bakura finally let go of Ryou's wrist, and the whitenette rubbed it with his free hand, biting his lip. Bakura leaned back expectantly in the creaking wooden chair, his attention off Ryou and now on his food. The teenager was trembling as he sank onto the rough wooden chair, staring down at the pewter plate in front of him. _Probably stolen goods..._ Ryou bit his lip, clenching hard on the seat of his chair.

"Breakfast." Devlin said lightly as he walked around the table, dishing out a ladle of grey-looking stew onto each plate. "Is served." Ryou made a face as the stew was heaped onto his place, and swallowed. Ever since he was a very small child, Ryou had been taught to eat his food without complaint. However, he wasn't so sure he could uphold this...

The silence broke as Bakura took the first bite of food, and raucous laughter filled the room. Ryou bit his lip as he bowed his head, his hands clasped together. His lips moved silently in Grace, his eyes closed.

"What are you doing?" Ryou jumped at the soft voice at his left, and lifted his head, leaving the prayer hanging in midair. He stared into a pair of wide lavender orbs, his mouth falling open.

"E-Excuse me..." Ryou breathed, feeling his heart lift, just a little in relief. "But... Who are you?" The blonde smiled as he took a bite of the stew, swallowing the mouthful.

"Me? The name's Malik. I'm a member of the crew here- Not a pirate." He added, noting the look of alarm on Ryou's face. "But I'm not a slave, either." The teenager blinked, brushing a lock of white hair out of his eyes. "Eat your food, you must be starving."

"But... If you are not a pirate or a slave... Then who are you?" Ryou tilted his head to one side, white bangs falling into his eyes. "Are you here by free will?" Malik shook his head.

"No." He took another bite of stew. "I'm not free yet." He caught the eye of Bakura, who was staring at him closely. "Uh... I'll explain later, okay Ryou? Just eat your breakfast, and quick. Joey'll probably try to steal it like he does everyone else's, and no one dares to argue."

"Very well then." Ryou murmured gently, turning his attention to the heap of grey stew on the pewter plate. There were only two pieces of cutlery, a knife and fork, and Ryou lifted up the fork, his hand slightly trembling. He speared a piece of the meat, and slowly lifted is up to his eyes, wide brown eyes examining the mutton.

"It smells... awful." Ryou finally breathed, making a face. "I-I am not sure I can stomach this..."

"Ryou." Bakura cut in, his food already almost gone. "This is the best we've eaten on a month. You should count yourself lucky."

"O-Oh dear." Ryou whispered. Slowly, with much trepidation, he opened his mouth, and consumed the chunk of grey mutton. It tasted awful on his tongue, and Ryou shuddered as he swallowed, panting. "Oh gosh... D-Do you have anything to drink at all?"

"Ale?" Bakura smirked. "Great way to start the day." Ryou only show Bakura a dark look, before turning back down to his plate of food. His fork speared another piece of meat, and he forced it down, suppressing the urge to gag. It was easily the worst meal of his life.

"Bread?" Ryou froze at the voice, and looked up. His mouth fell open at the man who uttered those words, recognising the mop of scruffy blonde hair, the coffee-coloured eyes and self-satisfied smirk.

"You." Ryou bit his lip, his hands shaking. He pressed himself against the chair as hard as he could, trying to back away from the blonde who say across from him. "No?"

"D-Do not come near me." Ryou breathed, trying his hardest to make his voice sound fierce. "I do not w-want your bread." Joey only shrugged, and set the plate of pbred back down on the table, taking a swig of ale.

"Eh. Don' matter. Seems' our Cap'n's taken a likin' to ya Ryou. No?" Ryou looked down, his hands clenching into fists. "Seems' I made a good choice-"

"Stay _away_ from me." Ryou blurted out, the fork tumbling from his hand. Bakura, who was engaged in conversation with Malik froze, and practically half the table turned to see what the problem was.

"What's going on?" Bakura snarled, shooting daggers at first Joey, then Ryou. "Kid, you better not be making trouble this soon."

"No." Joey said airily, smirking at Ryou as his arm stretched out across the table. The teenager scraped his chair back a little, his heart thudding in his chest. "Ryou 'ere was gonna give me 'is brekkie. Right, kiddo?" Ryou froze, locking his gaze with those coffee-coloured orbs. He opened his mouth to protest, but after seeing a flash of anger pass through Joey's eyes, Ryou's shoulders slumped in defeat, and he lowered his gaze to the table.

"I-I am not hungry." He said softly, his hands clenched on the seat of the chair once more. Malik froze mid-meal, regarding Ryou with concern. "Joey may have the remainder of my meal."

"Good O." Joey smiled as he lifted Ryou's plate over to his, scraping the stew onto his own piece of pewter. Ryou closed his eyes as the plate clattered on the table, and pushed his chair back, making to stand up.

"What are you doing?" Ryou blinked, and froze as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked down at the tanned fingers, before staring Malik in the face. "You have to stay sitting Ryou, we don't leave until the captain is ready?"

"Why?" Ryou challenged, throwing a glance over to Bakura, who seemed occupied with his food.

"Because he's the captain." Malik explained. "He's the master over us all, that's why."

"He is not the master over me." Ryou's voice held a tone of anger as he made to stand up. Malik's eyes widened, and he clamped hard on Ryou's shoulder, forcing the teenager to stay seated.

"Ryou, no!" He pleaded. "We have rules here... You have to obey them. Bakura's put his claim on you now. A-and..." Malik swallowed deeply. "Trust me, you're going to be thankful later because of it, I swear."

"I-I wish to go home..." Ryou's voice cracked, and he looked down, his slim frame shaking. "I hate it here..."

"Ryou..." Malik sighed. "I felt the same way, too. I know it seems bad now, but you have to trust me, it's going to get better."

"Trust you?" Ryou asked, his tone somewhat incredulous. "I-I do not even know you, Malik. How can I trust you?"

"Ryou." Bakura snarled, breaking the conversation. "Stay in your seat and shut up. I'm not done eating yet."

"B-But-"

"_Ryou_." Bakura banged his fist on the table to prove his point, the cutlery rattling. The whole table was immediately entombed in silence, and the whole crew turned to look at the white-haired teen. "_Shut up_." Ryou pressed his lips together, his chest exploding in anger and frustration at the hopelessness and injustice at all. He opened his mouth to retaliate, to shout and scream at Bakura that he had _no_ right to do this to an innocent child who was the victim of a massacre and a kidnap, so demand that he not ever be referred to as a slave, the most demeaning title of all.

"Don't do it Ryou." Malik breathed, still squeezing Ryou's shoulder. He momentarily tightened his grip to reinforce his point, before his fingers slackened against the slim bone. "It's not worth it." Ryou's shoulders slumped, his head bowed, and tears pricking in his eyes. His voice broke as he uttered those two words, and he tried to hard to keep the saline water from dripping down his face, but failed miserably.

"Y-Yes, Bakura..."

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Awh. Poor Ryou's losing all his rebellion. -snorts- As if.

R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

Ello ello! XD It's an update YEY! I think o.O'

Disclaimer: I own nothing XD

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"You're going to spend the day with Malik." Bakura barked, practically dragging the teenager along behind him. Ryou whimpered, his arms hurting, but didn't say anything. "Malik works over eighteen hours a day to keep this place tidy." The man smirked. "He'll certainly be wanting the help..."

"E-Eighteen hours?" Ryou breathed. "How on earth can you do that do that to him?" Bakura shrugged.

"He's my slave." The male slammed the door to the lower deck behind Ryou, the teenager blinking in the sunlight. "I can do what I like."

"That is so cruel." Ryou whispered, sounding close to tears. "You are so inhumane... How could you be so heartless to someone?" Bakura only arched an eyebrow, before yanking on Ryou's wrist, pulling the teenager to his chest. Ryou looked up into narrowed blood-red eyes anxiously.

"Simple." He snarled. "Like I said. Malik is mine. I bought him. Therefore, I can do what I wish." Ryou's mouth fell open. "Oh come on, you know how slaves are treated in the America's. He counts himself lucky."

"You did not pay for me." Ryou protested, struggling to keep his eyes locked with Bakura.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Bakura angrily gripped Ryou's wrists harder. "Would you like me to throw a few shillings on the smoking carcasses that were you parents?" Ryou froze, and his mouth fell open.

"You..." He slowly shook his head from side to side. "How.. How _dare_ you say that!" He struggled against Bakura, but to no avail. "I demand you apologize and unhand me!" Ryou protested as he was roughly led across the deck, over to Malik, who was hauling a bucket of water up the side of the ship. "Let me go now! You are being horrible unfair to me!"

"Life's not fair." Bakura snarled in Ryou's ear. "Haven't you learned that yet?" Ryou gasped as Bakura pushed him away, and he fell against the railing of the ship, stumbling. "Ryou's going to be with you." The man raised his voice, shifting his gaze to the Egyptian. "Just split your daily tasks with him." Malik nodded wordlessly, his hands stilling on the thick rope. "Good. I'll be below deck." Ryou kept his eyes fixated on the ocean as Bakura turned on his heel and left, his books clacking against the salt-worn decks.

"Ryou?" Malik kept one hand on the rope, and placed the other on the whitenette's shoulder. "You okay?" He looked on in concern, Ryou shaking as he leaned over the railing. "Come on, you're going to fall off..."

"I partly wish to." Ryou whispered the words, his voice trembling. "I just want to leave this awful ship." Malik sighed, and withdrew his hand, returning to hauling up the water.

"I know you do." He murmured softly. "I would probably feel the same if I were in your position." Ryou blinked, and straightened his back, brushing tangled white hair from his eyes.

"You mean you do not?" Ryou tilted his head to one side as Malik managed to drag the water up to the wide of the ship. He lifted it over, setting it onto the deck.

"Every night I thank the Gods I am here, Ryou." Malik blew his bangs out of his eyes as he bent down to untie the rope around the handle. He still stared up at the younger teenager, whose mouth fell open.

"But why?" He was incredulous, shielding the sunlight from his eyes with one hand. "Why are you glad of your slavery?"

"I never said I was glad of that." Malik muttered. "I didn't have a choice in that... It happened a few years ago, when I was in south Africa and a trade ship came past when I was sleeping on the beach... Well, more of a slave ship."

"But you are not African." Ryou blinked, aghast. "Even I can see you're Egyptian." Malik shrugged, lifting the bucked in his arms.

"I'm coloured, Ryou. That's good enough. Do... Do you know what it's like, spending three months below deck in a stinking ship, people dying around you? Knowing that once you reached your destination, you were destined to spend your life in slavery in the Americas? Do you what it's like to stand on that podium and just watch as people battle to buy the rights to your life? Do you know what they do to African slaves in the Americas Ryou? The lynching, the torture and dehumanization?" Ryou nodded, a stricken look on his face. "Then wouldn't you rather work on a ship? To have a Master that genuinely cares for you and allows you to speak in your native tongue? Where you get decent food most of the time and a place to sleep?"

"Well... I suppose." Ryou finally muttered grudgingly. "But how would you feel, Malik? How would you feel if you watched your village, your whole life burn to the ground in front of you, your parents murdered, and then being forced to become nothing more than a pet for a pirate captain, and having absolutely no say in it at all?"

"Ryou..." Malik let out a long sigh as he set down the pail of water, resting his hands on the whitenette's shoulders. "You think you're the first boy Bakura's done this to? I've heard your story a thousand times before. And I feel for you, I do. I know you hurt. But the only thing you can do is accept it." Ryou shook his head violently, wrenching his shoulders from Malik's hands.

"I can not, and _will_ not accept this!" Ryou ran a hand through his hair. "Think about what you are saying, Malik! I refuse to condemn myself to a life of servitude. It would be an insult to my lineage to do so." The Egyptian let out a long sigh, and picked up the pail again.

"Hold this." He muttered shortly, pressing it into Ryou's chest. The teenager blinked, saline water slopping onto his chest as he accepted the bucket. "I'll be back shortly."

"Very well." Ryou whispered, clutching the bucket tightly. He looked up at the sky, a bold, bright blue, marred with thick fluffy clouds. The opposite of what he was feeling. He looked around him, biting his lip. There were only a handful of people on deck. _The rest must be downstairs_. Three were playing a game with a set of dice on an upturned crate, while another was fiddling with the thick, heavy ropes that were lashed to the mast. Ryou gulped as his brown eyes followed the mast up, white sails billowing in the air. He paused as he stared at the crows nest on the very top of the mast, his heart sinking. _Oh my. I would dislike being up there so very much_...

"Back." Ryou blinked as Malik hefted a bucket in one hand, two mops in the other. "Take this."

"What am I supposed to do?" Ryou blinked as he set the bucket on the deck. Malik thrust a mop at him, and he blinked. "I do not understand."

"You wash the floors with it." There was a deadpan look on Malik's face as he stared at Ryou. "For Ra's sake..."

"Oh!" Ryou blinked, and dipped the mop into the bucket, biting his lip. "Do you often have to clean the ship?"

"Every day." Malik muttered, tying the rope to the second bucket and tossing it over the side of the ship. "It's what takes up most of my time. And the crew. We all work hard to keep the place in order. Bakura's a terrific captain. He couldn't dare let this place grow dirty. Thinks a dirty ship's the sign of a bad captain."

"Even a pirate ship?" Malik smiled ruefully, nodding his head. Ryou fought back a grin as he started to wipe the mop across the floorboards.

"Especially a pirate ship." Malik rolled his eyes. "It pisses the crew off. They reckon that we're cleaners more than pirates. They don't spend half as much time cleaning as what I do, neither." He muttered, hauling up the bucket of water. "Ungrateful bastards."

"So you are spiteful about being a slave on this ship." Ryou whispered softly. Malik stilled. "Why do you stay?"

"... Because I have nowhere else to go." Malik finally said quietly. "My mother died when I was born, and my father when I was twelve. That was why I left Egypt, to look for my sister and brothers. They're all the family I have, but I haven't seen them in years. When I turn eighteen, Bakura's promised that he's gonna let me go free, and he'll even help me find Isis and Marik and Rishid again."

"And you believe him?" Ryou arched an eyebrow, his arm muscles already starting to ache a little. "He may be trying to fool you." Malik shook his head, biting his lip.

"Nah. Not to me. Bakura cares about me, Ryou. I know he does. He's nice to me, especially when the crew isn't around. Trust me Ryou, you'll soon get special treatment too."

"I do not want special treatment." Ryou muttered bitterly, tearfully. "I want... I want..."

"What do you want?" Malik leaned in a little, keeping an eye on the crew across the deck. He started washing the deck as well, biting his lip. "Listen. Obey Bakura. Give him whatever he wants. React to his every whim, and he will reward you, Ryou. I swear it."

"Can he take me to London?" Ryou lifted his head slightly. Malik frowned a little.

"London?" He inquired. "You got family there?" Ryou nodded, biting his lip.

"I have an aunt and uncle there." He sighed, applying more pressure onto the wooden planks. "They could take me in..." Malik nodded slightly, staring at the slim teenager.

"Ryou, if you behave, and let Bakura do whatever he wants, he will give you anything. He'd cover you in diamonds if you wished." Ryou smiled slightly, looking down at the deck.

"But I do not think I can do that." Ryou breathed softly. "I am so scared of him, Malik. I know what it is he wants to do to me, and it just makes me feel so sick and scared..."

"Look, Ryou." He sighed. "I've seen a lot of people just like you beaten down and broken. They all had your innocence and grace, but not to your calibre. I don't think Bakura could actually bring himself to hurt you. Not badly."

"So I am special." Ryou murmured, his head bowed. "Well, I do not _feel_ honoured, Malik. To be special among slaves is to be a mere commoner. Which I am _not_." The Egyptian groaned, screwing his eyes up tightly.

"I'm just trying to make you feel better." He muttered lowly. "Sorry." Ryou's shoulders slumped as Malik turned away, busying himself in washing the decks.

"Oh Malik, no." He protested. "Please, do not be like this at all. It is not what I desire." Malik turned around on his heel, surveying the teenager. "It is just... The shock of everything... It is a lot to swallow all at once."

"I know it is." Malik said patiently. "But if you don't clean up your act and at least pretend you like Bakura, he'll call you a lost cause." Ryou's eyes widened.

"And... Wh-What does he do to those he considers lost causes?" He dared to whisper, his hands gripping the mop trembling. Malik turned away, busying himself in the washing. "Malik?"

"You don't want to know." He muttered lowly, keeping his eyes downcast. "It's awful, Ryou. I know he likes the whole fighting buzz and holding people down, but it eventually bores him." Ryou blinked. "I think he just wants someone to care for him, or show him the same degree of feeling he returns."

"Th-Then why does he not take a wife?" Ryou inquired anxiously. Malik rolled his eyes, shifting slightly to mop a new patch of deck.

"Because he doesn't like girls." He replied shortly. "Never has. I dunno why. Maybe he has mother issues or something... Either way, it's just the boys he shares his bed with, and they never feel the same way, and it... I think it hurts him."

"You think?" Ryou followed suit, moving his bucket so he and Malik could stand a little closer. "You do not know?"

"I don't." Malik shook his head. "No idea. It's not the kind of thing you talk about, Ryou. He's screwed up, sure, but Bakura's a bloody good captain. He runs a tight ship around here, and everyone listens to him. He's been running this ship for damn near ten years, and no one's tried a mutiny, not once." Ryou pressed his lips together, looking away. "He's become one of the most feared pirates in Europe. He's achieved his dream in that aspect, but kinda think he wants someone at his side, if you know what I mean."

"I do understand you." Ryou nodded, dunking the mop into the bucket of water. "But I can not be that person. I do not feel that way about Bakura. I do not feel that way about men. Maybe, if I spoke to him calmly, he may permit me to find a passage to London to find my relatives-"

"Don't bet on it." Malik muttered darkly. "If you don't give him anything, he wont give you a thing in return. Keep your head down, do what he says, and keep your legs open. You'll be fine."

"K-Keep my _what?_" Ryou flushed a very dark red. "M-Malik... You can not be serious. I will never give myself to Bakura in that way, ever! It is so demeaning, so humiliating..."

"Oh well." Malik shrugged. "Nice knowing ya, Ryou. I hoped you wouldn't be a lost cause, but guess not..." Ryou's eyes widened even further, and his mouth fell open.

"N-No!" He bit his lip. "Are you saying Bakura would kill me for refusing to sleep with him?" Malik only regarded Ryou with a solemn look.

"Why do you think the other boys died, Ryou? Some of them stopped eating, a couple killed themselves, but most Bakura took care of for mainly that reason. Do you want to die?" Ryou's shoulders slumped in a long, long sigh, and he looked away, trembling.

"I do not wish to die." He breathed. "Of course not. And never by Bakura's hand. But I will not give myself to Bakura, I wont!" He stamped his foot on the wooden planks to prove his point. "I refuse to."

"Then good luck." Malik bowed his head, mopping the floor busily. "That's what's happened every other time, is all." He paused in his mopping, and looked up, staring in to wide brown eyes. Ryou clutched the mop like a lifeline, trembling. "Maybe this time will be different. Maybe Bakura will see you as special." He looked away, drumming his fingers on the mop handle.

"I hope he does."

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Awh. Character developement! YEY! Hehehehehehe.

R&R!


	5. Chapter 5

Lookie! An update! D

I can't believe how many people luff this... o.o;; Or rather, I can't believe who luffs it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. Bwahahaha!

* * *

"Malik..."

The Egyptian looked up from the floorboards, his brow creasing in concern. Ryou was on all fours on the deck, one hand on a hard-bristled scrubbing brush. He was panting as he worked weakly, his hair falling over his slim shoulders and across his face.

"Mmmm?" Malik didn't look up from his methodical scrubbing, biting his lip as he ground the scrubbing brush into the wooden boards. "You okay?"

"No." Ryou gasped, the brush slipping from his fingers as he slowly sat up, holding a damp, soapy hand to his forehead. "I-I'm afraid I feel simply awful..." Malik sat up himself, his frown deepening. "I-I feel as though I am about to faint..."

"Oh shit." Malik cursed under his breath, staring at Ryou. The whitenette pushed his hair out of his eyes, whimpering.

"I-I am so exhausted." Ryou whispered, tears forming in his eyes. "I-I am not used to this labour, Malik..." His wide chocolate orbs slowly closed. "I... I..." Malik yelped, and jumped up as Ryou fainted, pitching forward over onto the decks, knocking over his bucket of water as he did so.

"Oh _shit_." Malik groaned, rubbing at his temples. He dropped his own brush as he scurried over to the teenager, taking Ryou's shoulders and rolling him over onto his back. "Ryou... Wake up, man." He sighed, staring at the teenager. "Damnit..." He stood up, letting out a long sigh. He shielded the sun from his view with one hand, squinting onto the upper deck, where Bakura was positioned behind the huge steering wheel.

"Hey, Bakura!" He hollered as loud as he could, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Hey!" The captain didn't hear him, focused intently on the ocean, spread out around them like a silken blue sheet. Malik swore under his breath, and stepped over the teen, hurriedly crossing the deck and up the stairs.

"Malik." Bakura blinked as the Egyptian slowed before him. "What are you doing here?" He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Ryou." Malik panted. "He-"

"What happened?" Malik blinked at the momentary look of panic that crossed the captains face. "What did he do?"

"He passed out." Malik explained, jerking his head in Ryou's direction. "The sun got to him, Bakura." The white-haired male blinked, before the normal look of indifference crossed his face.

"That all?" Bakura turned back to the captains wheel, the polished wood warm under his hands. "Just put him in his bed and let him sleep it off."

"His bed?" Malik frowned. "Or yours?" Bakura didn't answer, his attention back to the steering.

"You know what I mean." He finally muttered. "Check on him every little bit, and tells me when he wakes up."

"Yeah." Malik sighed, rubbing at his nose. Bakura raised an eyebrow, regarding the Egyptian coolly.

"Yeah who?" He smirked, one hand resting on his hip.

"Yes _sir._" Malik grinned, turning and running down the small flight of steps to the main deck. Ryou was still spread out along the salt-stained boards, ignored by the rest of the crew. Malik sighed, bending over to slide his hands under Ryou's shoulders and knees. He groaned as he slowly stood up, his slender but strong arms managing to bear Ryou's weight._ But he still feels light..._ Malik sighed, blinking sweat out of his eyes as he crossed the deck once more, heading to the ornately carved door that led to Bakura's private room. None but Malik and Bakura's extensive collection of boys had even been allowed inside, and Malik had only slept on the bed once, a long time ago. Not for sexual purposes- He was just tired and scared.

"Here we go..." Malik gently laid the unconscious teenager out on the soft white bed, his grubby, damp clothes contrasting sharply with the pristine sheets. He sat down on the side of the bed, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he watched Ryou for a moment. "They sure know how to pick 'em." The Egyptian muttered, staring at Ryou's face. His gaze shifted down to his slim white hands a moment later, and he gently reached out, taking the teens slim porcelain fingers. He raised Ryou's hand up to his eye level, surveying it closely. Malik pressed his lips together, and his shoulders heaved in a long sigh. The skin was smooth, pale and unmarred, his nails pink, filed, and perfect.

"He's never worked a day in his life." Malik muttered, staring back at Ryou's fine-boned features. "He's probably nobility... Hell, Bakura's going to be in trouble if there's people looking for him." He rolled his eyes. _Yeah. Like Bakura hasn't got enough people on his back_... Malik shook his head, laughing softly as he pulled the blankets over Ryou, up to his chin. _There's something about this kid. It's unsettling. I haven't seen Bakura like this around anyone in ages. _

"Maybe you'll be the one to get inside his head." Malik murmured as he walked over to the doorway, turning back to look at the slim teenager. "I hope so."

* * *

"Sleeping Beauty awakens."

Ryou groaned at the smug, sarcastic tone burying his head deeper into the pillow. He froze at the hand on his shoulder, and after much reluctance, slowly lifted his head, staring down at the pillow.

"What is it you want." Ryou muttered, closing his eyes, Bakura chuckled, sitting beside Ryou with his legs crossed. "I do not wish to talk right now... Please, leave me be."

"Someone doesn't sound happy to see me." Bakura leaned down, breathing the words in Ryou's ear. The teenager moaned softly, falling back into the pillow with a soft thump. "I feel insulted."

"I fail to care." Ryou mumbled, his back and neck aching. "Please Bakura, I am not in the mood-"

"And I also fail to care." Bakura snarled, mocking Ryou's tone. "You passed out during your duties. Malik reckons it's sunstroke. You didn't work in your village, did you?" Ryou shook his head, exhausted and aching.

"I-I cannot do that again." Ryou whispered, his voice muffled by the pillow. He tried to sound as pathetic as he could, struggling to hold back tears. "P-Please, Bakura, do not put me through that..."

"What does that make you then?" Bakura snarled. "If you're not going to work, then why should I let you stay on my ship? Why shouldn't I throw you overboard?"

"No!" Ryou panicked, rolling over onto his back, looking up pleadingly at the captain. "Y-You cannot... P-Please, do not do that to me... I-I cannot swim..."

"How useful." Bakura remarked, looking down at the teenager. "You know what I see, Ryou? I see a spoilt little brat of a teenager, who refuses to earn his keep on my ship. Food and water is precious here. Why should I waste it on you?" Ryou's eyes widened, and he was trembling.

"I-I... I..." Ryou's voice was hoarse, and trembling. Tears pushed at his eyes. "I..."

"You're totally useless, Ryou. You can't do any labour, I don't need another cook, and you refuse to do any personal duties." Ryou squeaked as a hand was clapped on the side of his face. "I don't know why I should keep you."

"Please." Ryou begged, terrified. "I-I will do anything you wish. Just please... Please, do not kill me." Bakura raised an eyebrow as he regarded the teenager, before shifting on the bed, twisting on the mattress until he was leaning against the headboard. Ryou flinched, Bakura's grimy fingers in his hair.

"How about we play a game." Bakura smirked. "It's easy. I'm going to ask you a series of questions, which you have to answer truthfully. And if you tell me a lie, then..." Ryou's eyes widened as Bakura's fingers drifted down his face, resting on the top of his chest. "You lose one piece of clothing."

"Y-You cannot be serious." Ryou croaked, looking up at the captain pleadingly. "Th-this is not fair..."

"So?" Bakura smirked, leaning over Ryou. "I'm the captain of this ship. I make the rules. Agreed?" Ryou's eyes flashed, and he opened his mouth, daring to argue, before thinking the better of it, and pressing his pale lips shut.

"Agreed." Ryou complied, his eyes lowering. Bakura smiled in triumph, still leaning over the teen.

"Name?" He asked, first, his hand still on Ryou's chest, The teenager swallowed weakly.

"R-Ryou James Cooper." He whispered, his voice cracking. Bakura smiled.

"Ryou's an unusual name for an' Englishman." He muttered smoothly, locking eyes with the whitenette. "Where does it come from? Answer truthfully." Ryou was silent for a long time, biting his lip.

"M-My mother's brother." He finally breathed, looking away. "He is a merchant sailor, between here and Asia. He took a wife in Japan two years before I was born. Th-They had a boy, called Ryou who died in childbirth. My mother thought it would be appropriate to honour them by naming me Ryou." Bakura stared down at Ryou as he spoke, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Huh." He finally muttered. "How do you feel about that?" Ryou blinked, looking at the man.

"E-Excuse me?"

"How do you feel." Bakura repeated, a deadpan look on his face. "Do you like the name, hate it? What?"

"O-Oh." Ryou averted his eyes from the man. "I-I suppose I do not mind. It is unusual, maybe, but I do... like it." Bakura snorted, before a leer of triumph spread over his face.

"You're lying." He announced as he sat up, Ryou's eyes widening as Bakura quickly straddled his waist, pushing the blankets down.

"N-No!" Ryou protested as Bakura bony hands groped at the buttons on his ragged waistcoat. He arched his back, struggling to fight against him, but to no avail. "S-Stop this!"

"Oh, calm down." Bakura sneered as he tossed the garment to the floor. "It was nothing." Ryou closed his eyes, whimpering. "Now." He settled on Ryou so he was more comfortable, staring down at that perfect rounded face. "How old are you?"

"I-I am fifteen." Ryou breathed, trying not to cry. "I turn sixteen in five months." Bakura nodded, one finger trailing down Ryou's chest.

"What did your father do for a living?" He asked, his eyes half-lidded. Ryou froze, biting his lip as he stared up at Bakura.

"Wh-Whatever do you mean?" He asked. "My father is a fisherman." Bakura narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer to survey the teen. Ryou's eyes were wide, and he was quivering.

"Liar." Bakura growled, groping at the buttons on Ryou's shirt. The teenager squeaked, and shook his head, pressing his lips together. He struggled weakly as Bakura easily yanked the worn garment from his skinny frame, casting it aside without a second thought. Bakura's eyes were trained on the teenager's chest, and he slowly ran his palms over the smooth, silky skin. Ryou shivered at the touch, arching his neck against the pillow.

"P-Please..."

"What did your father _really_ do for a living?" Bakura raised an eyebrow, smirking. Ryou swallowed deeply, looking away.

"D-Do you swear not to divulge the answer to anyone?" He breathed, staring up at Bakura with the most pitiful look he could muster. Bakura snorted, and rolled his eyes.

"Kid, he's _dead_." He groaned. "It doesn't matter. Just tell me."

"W-Well..." Ryou took in a deep breath. "My father... H-He was a member of the gentry. A-A member of the Court. Two years ago, he upset the King. He called him a tyrant-"

"Charles _is_ a tyrant"

"-And was forced to escape before he was imprisoned." Ryou finished mournfully. "We had no other option. My father chose a tiny fishing town, as far north as he could without venturing into Scotland." Bakura stared down at Ryou, his brow furrowed deeply.

"Huh." Bakura smirked. "So. You like living in a fishing town? Stuck on a miserable rock, struggling for survival, Dirt-poor, bone-thin... Must have been hell after the Court."

"It was." Ryou whispered, tears filling his eyes. "I hated it all of the time. I hated my parents for forcing me into it. I hated my father for his foolishness... I tried to convince Mother and Father to let me return to London, but it was a failure..." Bakura regarded the teen coolly, before a thought struck him.

"So you like being here." Bakura leaned in ever closer to Ryou, their noses inches apart. "You like being on this ship. You think it's an adventure, don't you? Being on a pirate ship, with no real destination. Where the world is your oyster. Where you're free. Free from that town, free from the strict Court, free from your family ties." Ryou froze as Bakura leaned down, whispering the last words in the whitenette's ear. "You love it."

"N-No." Ryou breathed a moment later, shaking his head softly. Bakura lifted his head, both hands on the wide of Ryou's face. He stared long and hard into wide brown eyes, biting his lip. Then, he broke into a twisted leer, straightening himself and pressing his hands on Ryou's bony shoulders.

"You're lying." Bakura spat, his eyes narrowing. Ryou was still, staring up at the man with a shocked expression on his face.

"N-Not." He whispered weakly, but it was half-hearted. Both knew Ryou was lying.

"You were a bird in a cage." Bakura whispered. "And now you're free." Ryou's mouth fell open as Bakura pulled down the blankets even further, his hands resting on the top of the teenager's trousers.

"Please." Ryou begged, starting to tremble. Bakura's smile widened, as he fiddled with the crude wooden buttons. He shook his head frantically, starting to cry. "Do not do this..." Bakura rolled his eyes, easily pinning Ryou's arms to his chest. The teenager yelped, struggling and crying against the captain.

"You beg too much." Bakura snarled, easily dragging rough brown trousers, two sizes too large, down his legs. Ryou whimpered, sobbing as Bakura carelessly threw the trousers to the floor. Ryou blushed as Bakura stared him down, looking away. "Nothing I haven't seen before." Bakura leered, trailing a hand down Ryou's chest. "Don't be ashamed." He smirked, seizing Ryou's forearms and leaning over steeply. Ryou gasped, their lower halves touching. "You have a great body."

"Please..." Ryou moaned, still struggling against Bakura, unaware that his movements ground their hips together. "Let me go..." Bakura only chuckled, staring at Ryou's panicked face for a moment, before crushing their lips together in a violent kiss. Ryou's eyes widened like saucers, and he pushed against Bakura, struggling weakly. The captain's strength far outnumbered the teen anyway, and he easily pinned Ryou to the mattress, forcing his tongue past those soft wet lips. Ryou moaned, in exasperation and fear more than pleasure, but the sound only caused Bakura to kiss him harder, one hand sneaking up into Ryou's long hair. He twisted the white locks around his fingers, pulling back hard to force Ryou into deepening the kiss. Ryou struggled to push him off, Bakura still ravaging his mouth. Oh, it was awful, the sensation of Bakura's invasive tongue inside his mouth, hands daring to sneak down Ryou's sides. But at the same time, Ryou's hormones were crying out in ecstasy.

Finally, they broke apart. Bakura lifted his lips from Ryou with a long sigh, staring down at the boy who was gasping and choking. He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. Ryou whimpered, going lax into the mattress.

"Sit up." Bakura commanded, settling back and straddling Ryou's thighs. The teenager gasped, closing his eyes tight and freezing. "Now." Ryou's eyed opened, and he slowly, reluctantly pushed himself into a sitting position, Bakura resting on his legs. The whitenette sniffed, gasping as Bakura abruptly looped an arm around his waist. The captain smirked as he leaned in for a second kiss, Ryou's heart thudding in fear and anticipation in his chest. Bakura almost melted as he kissed Ryou again, his hands sliding from Ryou's waist and onto the back of his thighs. Ryou started struggling, tears welling up in his eyes, but Bakura bit down on his tongue, quite hard, to still him. Ryou complied, lax in Bakura's hold, but he still shook madly.

Bakura tilted his head, deepening the kiss, as he held Ryou's lower thighs. The teenager was trembling violently as the captain scooted back, off Ryou's legs, and slowly settled himself between them, Ryou's long creamy legs stretched out over the bed, the knee slightly bent. Bakura's hand slid to the top of Ryou's thighs, and he groaned, still kissing the teen heatedly-

"Cap'n?" Bakura gasped, and broke away from the whitenette, snapping his attention to the doorway. Joey leaned against the wood, smirking. Ryou froze, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. "You 'ave to come see this." The blonde smirked, jerking his head towards the west. Bakura swore under his breath, and nodded, untangling himself from Ryou and straightening his clothes. The teenager instantly curled into a ball, hugging his legs to hide his nudity from Joey, his face flushed in embarrassment. Joey's eyes lingered on Ryou's skinny form as Bakura rushed across the room, punching the blonde in the shoulder, and pushing him out of his chambers.

"Get some rest." Bakura smirked, resting a hand on the doorframe. "You'll need it for tonight." Ryou's eyes widened, and he snapped his gaze around to the captain, trembling. "What. I thought we went over this. Either you have a purpose, or I throw you over."

"No." Ryou gasped hoarsely. "N-No!" Despite his nakedness, Ryou made to get up, his heart thudding in horror. "Y-You cannot!" Bakura only rolled his eyes, and locked the door, sliding the bolt home. Ryou sat frozen on the bed, his eyes wide with fear. "Please..." He whispered, clutching handfuls of the sheets. He sank back onto his rear, drawing his legs up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his shins, resting his chin on his knees. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he cried quietly, his shoulders shaking. Ryou curled into himself as tight as he possibly could, sobbing.

_He cannot do this to me._ Ryou thought desperately, his teeth chattering as he shuddered. _Surely he cannot. Someone has to stop him. _

_But they cannot._ Ryou closed his eyes. _He is the captain. The master. Everyone on this ship has to obey him, or face the consequences. _

Awhh... Poor Ryou-kins. XD

I love to torture him so -.-

R&R!


	6. Chapter 6

Ooooh yeah. Update! XD

Disclaimer: I own nothing. DEAL WITH IT MOFOS XD

* * *

"Ryou?"

Malik let out a long sigh as he leaned against the freshly closed door, staring at the pale, trembling teenager curled up in the middle of the bed, sobbing. "What's wrong?" Ryou sniffed, and slowly raised his head slowly from the cold comfort of his knees.

"B-Bakura..." He finally sniffed, releasing his left hand to wipe at his eyes. "Wh-When I was awake, he... H-he..."

"Ohh..." Malik bit his lip, slowly making his way across the room. He gently sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Ryou, it's okay... He didn't go all the way, did he?"

"No." Ryou whispered tearfully. "He thought it would suffice to play games with me. He forced me to ask all of these questions, and when he deduced that I was telling a lie, he took off my clothes. If Joey did not enter the room, I shudder to think what would have happened..." Malik slumped his shoulders in pity as Ryou returned to his knees, crying, his head bowed.

"I thought we went over this." Malik muttered. "I know you hate it, but do you really think you have any other choice?" Ryou sniffed, his slender frame shaking.

"H-He told me that if I do not let him do... That to me, he will throw me overboard." Ryou mumbled, his voice thick with tears. "I-I cannot swim, Malik. Please, you have to try and talk to him... Make him see reason. He cannot do this to me."

"He's captain." Malik muttered. "Damn, Ryou. You're stubborn, aren't you? You don't have a choice in this. Get that through you. Bakura's captain over all of us. Do you wanna be dead?" Ryou lifted his head again, and shook it, eyes wide. "Then you have to do this."

"I..." Ryou's voice broke. "I..."

"You?" Malik raised an eyebrow, and the teenager looked away, defeated. "I know you don't want to, Ryou. I don't understand it. Are you trying to tell me that during your whole life, you've never had to answer to _anyone?_"

"No..." Ryou whispered. "There was my father, my tutor, my Court Minder... I have always had someone to govern me."

"Then why is this any different?" Malik inquired. Ryou burst into a fresh wave of tears, his shoulders sobbing.

"Because! All of those previous people... They were people that cared. They were not just interested in my body. N-Not like Bakura. And none of them had total control over me. None of them owned me... Well, I suppose Father was the exception, but I never saw him much, and he never expected _this _of me." The Egyptian looked down at Ryou, his heart swelling in pity.

"I know it's all really scary." He murmured softly. "But you need to pull your head in. Just go along with it. Please? I don't wanna see you get thrown overboard. And you don't wanna get thrown, do you?" Ryou eventually shook his head, soft white bangs falling into his eyes. "No." He stared off into space for a long moment, Ryou's sobs slowly lessening.

"I have to go." He whispered a few minutes later, standing up. "Sorry Ryou, but I have lots to do. The deck needs finishing then I need to check all the ropes and the railings on the side need a fresh coat of paint..."

"If your presence is required elsewhere, you are free to leave." Ryou's voice was sombre and quiet, almost melancholy. "I am dreadfully tired... I think I shall retire to bed again." Malik smiled weakly, nodding.

"You're going to be okay, Ryou." Malik whispered, shooting the white-haired teen a slightly conspiring look. "I promise." Ryou nodded, his brown eyes trained on the crumpled, dirty linen sheets. He didn't look up as Malik left, choosing to keep his gaze fixed on the bed. He let out a choked sob as the door was shut once more, the bolt driven home, and flopped over onto his back. He curled over onto his side, blinking tears from his eyes and staring out the window and across the wide blue sea. It was beautiful, really. Ryou had never been so far out on the ocean before. It felt _scary_. _What would happen if we sank?_

_Don't think that!_ Ryou whimpered, burying his face in the pillow. _That concern will not better your situation in the slightest. Besides, Bakura would know if this ship was springing a leak. There is no reason for this ship to sink. Do not think the worst. _

Ryou sighed deeply as his eyes lowered shut. He groped around for the blankets, and when he found them, pulled them up to his shoulders. He knew he should have hunted around for some clothes –he'd always been taught to never, ever sleep naked- but he was just so _shattered_. His body was still somewhat in shock over the severe workload he was forced to endure. _Thank God I never have to go through that again, that was simply awful... Although I must admit, it still does sound more attractive than being a bed slave for Bakura..._ Ryou whimpered, his hands tightening on the sheets. His fear and worry gave way to exhaustion and fatigue, however, and in less than five minutes, he was in a deep slumber, the gentle rolling of the ship rocking him to sleep, like a giant wooden cradle.

* * *

"Time to wake uuup..." Bakura lilted in a raspy singsong, smirking as he stared down at the sleeping teenager. Ryou was still curled over on his side, hunched over as tightly as he could underneath the sheets.

"Mmmm..." The whitenette moaned softly. "Go 'way..." He buried his head deeper into the pillow, his eyes still closed, the perfect picture of childlike innocence.

"Oh no." Bakura set the pewter platter loaded with luxurious food down onto the bedside table, before slowly crawling across the bed. He rested his hand on Ryou's side, marvelling at the way his hand managed to almost cup the teens' entire side. "Wake up time, Ryou."

"No." He protested weakly, subconsciously pulling the blankets up higher around himself. "Tired." The captain rolled his eyes, before grabbing Ryou's shoulder –not too gently- and rolled the teen over onto his back. Ryou gasped, as his eyes snapped open, staring widely into the face of the man leaning over him, half thrown into shadow from the candlelight. "O-Oh..." Ryou pulled the covers up over his mouth, trembling violently. Bakura just stared, looking down motionless at the wide brown eyes that stared up at him, full of that childish innocence, and pure _fear_. It sent a surge of adrenaline running through Bakura, and he hadn't even hurt him yet.

"It's nighttime, Ryou." Bakura leaned down, to whisper in the teens' ear. Ryou gasped, and froze, closing his eyes and whimpering as Bakura's fingers gently stroked his cheek. "My crew have all eaten dinner, they're in their quarters now, downstairs. No one's around to hear us..." Ryou's stomach turned, and he burst into tears, shaking his head as he shook under the blankets.

"Please..." His voice was muffled under the covers, but Bakura still heard it all. "Do not do this Bakura... I-I am not ready..." Bakura only growled, and sat back, raising his gaze to the low ceiling. Ryou pulled the blankets up even further, trying so hard not to sob. The pirate stared down at the whitenette for a long moment, before reaching across to the bedside table. The sound of a cork popping sparked Ryou's interest, and he craned his neck to the side, trying to see past Bakura, to view what he was doing. The man kept his back to Ryou, however, as he poured the wine into a brass goblet, raising it to his nose and inhaling the contents.

"For you." He announced, turning back to Ryou. The teenager stared wide-eyed at Bakura, still shaking. "Come on, sit up." Ryou remained stationary, cautious and hesitant. _"Now_." Bakura snarled, his anger getting the better of him as he clenched his hand around the drinking vessel. Ryou squeaked softly, and slowly sat up, the sheets falling to his waist. Bakura sighed as the pale, creamy skin was exposed, and refrained from licking his lips.

"Wh-What is it?" Ryou inquired politely, one hand resting on the mattress, supporting himself, as he stretched out with the other, wordlessly demanding the drink. Bakura chuckled, and pressed the tarnished goblet into the slim teenagers' hand, his fingers lingering against Ryou for a moment. He stroked the skin before he pulled away, staring at him.

"It's French wine." He smirked at the way Ryou's eyes lit up. "Sweet. Have some, it's good." Ryou slowly raised the cup to his lips, suspicious. "It 'aint poisonous." He muttered. "Why would I poison you?" Ryou stared evenly at Bakura, his hand on the goblet shaking. "I mean it." Ryou bit his lip. "Look, just drink it, kid. I know you must be thirsty. It's either that, ale, or rum. What would you prefer?" Ryou stared down at the drink, trying to examine its' contents. "Oh, for Gods' sake Ryou!" Bakura exploded. Ryou gasped as Bakura snatched the drink from his fineboned hand, taking a swig for himself. He made a face as the wine, not at all to his taste, slid down his throat, and handed the goblet back to the teenager. "See?"

"I-I suppose..." Ryou finally whispered reluctantly, raising the goblet to his mouth. He parted his lips, allowing the sweet liquid to enter his mouth. He took a mere sip, just to be polite, but when he remembered the taste of the luxurious French wine, that he had not had the delight to sample for three years, he couldn't resist, and emptied the goblet in a few moments, turning it upside down to catch the last sweet drops on his tongue.

"Woa." Bakura smirked, reaching behind himself to grasp the dusty bottle. "Someone has a taste for that shit." Ryou nodded weakly, and his eyes lit up as Bakura snatched the goblet from his hands, refilling the wine almost to the brim. Ryou accepted the wine eagerly, taking a deep sip before explaining himself.

"I-It was a popular drink at the Court." Ryou murmured, staring down at the yellow liquid, fizzing up at him. "I-I was only allowed a little, but I grew to love it. It is just simply sumptuous." He smiled, taking a large gulp. "I have missed it so..." Bakura just rolled his eyes at the sight of the feminine boy drinking more of the wine, closing his eyes and relishing the taste. "Wherever did you obtain it?"

"France." Bakura smirked. "Lyons. We often take down the pirate colours and pretend to be a merchant ship to sell what we steal. And receive some..." He stared at Ryou, smirking. "Luxuries, in return."

"Oh." Ryou nodded as he lowered the empty goblet from his lips. "Is it true that you can command this ship to go anywhere?" Bakura nodded, swelling with pride as he topped up Ryou's glass again, only half-filling it this time. "Amazing... I wish I had that power..." He looked almost wistful, taking another sip of wine.

"Oh?" There was a devious expression on Bakura's face as he slowly edge closer to Ryou, leaning into him. "But you can..."

"I can?" Ryou was confused, staring at Bakura somewhat bleary-eyed. "Really?"

"Sure." Bakura bit back a chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, regarding Ryou as he slowly sipped the French wine. "You tell me where ya wanna go, I take you. We've got nowhere to go for about a month or so, then we make way for Spain."

"Spain?" Ryou tilted his head to one side, the effects of the alcohol slowly starting to manipulate his senses. "Why on earth would you want to go near them?"

"Because." Bakura's expression grew wistful. "Let's just say... Something _very_ valuable is going to pass into our hands very shortly, shall we?" Ryou frowned slightly, the glass of wine finished for the third time. "You _were_ thirsty." He remarked as he prised the goblet from Ryou's fingers, setting it down on the pewter platter. Ryou whined softly. "Hey." He cupped the side of Ryou's face, forcing the boy to look him in the eyes. "Do you know _why_ you were only allowed small amounts of that stuff in the past?" Ryou shook his head, confused. Bakura chuckled, rubbing the skin with his thumb before pulling back. "You're about to find out." He muttered darkly, scooting back a little so he could survey Ryou a little better.

"Why?" Ryou murmured gently, holding a hand to his slowly flushing forehead. Bakura chuckled, and pushed down on Ryou's shoulders, coaxing the young teenager to lie down. Ryou bit his lip, but relaxed into the mattress, sighing. "I-I am feeling rather light-headed..."

"Oh, I bet you are." Bakura muttered darkly, leering down at the teenager. "And I bet your hungry, too." Ryou nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Well..." He smirked, leaning back to take some food from the platter. "I have..." He surveyed the large platter, smirking. "Well..."

"Well?" Ryou turned his face to Bakura, blinking. The captain smirked, before selecting a small piece of bread, smeared with honey. "What is it you possess?"

"Close your eyes." Bakura commanded, sitting back a little. Ryou blinked, his mouth falling open slightly.

"Why?" His tone was accusing, slightly. "I-I do not understand..."

"Just do it." Bakura snarled, looking over the whitenette. Ryou squeaked, and complied, closing his eyes. "Good boy." He smiled as he crawled over to the teenager, breaking off a corner of the bread in his long bony fingers. He held it over Ryou's parted lips, before placing it inside on his tongue. Ryou's tightly squinched eyes relaxed, and he smiled, chewing and swallowing the small morsel, before licking his lips.

"I love honey." He sighed, still keeping his eyes closed. Bakura chuckled, breaking off more bread and honey for the teenager, who continued to accept the tasty little helpings, until the small hunk of bread was gone. "That was delicious..."

"I take it you haven't had honey in a while?" Bakura muttered lightly, before selecting an apple from the platter. He started slicing it with his knife, juice running down his fingers. Ryou shook his head, relaxing even further into the blankets. "What about this?" He took a small wedge of apple, and gently placed it between Ryou's lips, closely watching the way he chewed and swallowed the chunk of apple, juice sparkling on his lips, which flushed in the candlelight.

"Apple." Ryou murmured, the corners of his lips turning up further in a smile. "Mmmm." Bakura chuckled, before grasping another wedge of apple.

Ryou ate his meal in silence. Strangely enough, he wasn't scared of Bakura at that point. The sensation of light-headedness increased dramatically, to the point where Ryou was sure his head would spin if he even moved. The teenager just lay there as Bakura fed him the tasty treats, until the silver platter was nearly empty.

"Almost done." Bakura murmured, picking up the bunch of grapes, which were admittedly less than fresh. "'Kay, Ryou. Open mouth." The teenager giggled, somewhat drunkenly, and complied, parting his sweet pale lips. Bakura's fingers hovered over the teenagers' lips, and he was about to place the sweet grape there, before a thought struck him. He smirked, unsettlingly, and cautiously placed the sweet grape between his teeth. The captain placed his hands on the mattress, at either side of Ryou's fluffy white head, and leaned in, the fat round grape brushing at Ryou's lips. The teenager widened his mouth a little further, unaware of the lips that were hovering a hairs breadth above his. He gasped aloud as Bakura jammed their lips together, using his tongue to push the grape into Ryou's sweet little mouth. Ryou gasped, his eyes snapping open, his hands coming up to Bakura's shoulders, in an attempt to push him off. The captain only chuckled around Ryou's lips, and grabbed his skinny wrists forcing them above his head. Ryou bit down hard on the grape, the plump round fruit exploding in fruity sweetness. Ryou closed his eyes again, almost choking as Bakura continued to kiss him, gasping. Bakura allowed the kiss to go on for another few moments, before pulling apart. He stared down into cloudy brown eyes, chest heaving for air.

"Whatever was that for?" Ryou breathed, blinking as he locked his gaze with the pirate captain. Bakura smirked, and slowly released his left hand from Ryou's wrist, managing to hold the two of them with one. The teenager whimpered, shaking as Bakura slowly ran a thumb down his cheek, and over his lower lip. Ryou's lips moved soundlessly, in a silent plea. He was just so afraid, he couldn't speak.

"Because I think you're pretty." Bakura pressed his nose against Ryou's, chuckling. The teenager blinked, flushing an even deeper shade of pink. "Is that a crime?"

"I-I do believe it is." Ryou gasped seriously, finally finding his voice as Bakura's fingers starting running along his collarbone, feather light. "Please..."

"Don't 'please' me." Bakura snarled, before pressing their lips together once more. It was a much more heated kiss this time around, laced with passion and lust. Bakura's senses were inflamed as he lay down on the bed, pressing himself as closely to Ryou as he could. The whitenette whimpered, but didn't fight away, numb and lightheaded by the wine. Bakura smirked around the deep, lustful kiss, and released his hold on Ryou's hands, groping at the fastenings on his shirt. Ryou whimpered, his tongue lax in his mouth as Bakura ravaged him, pulling off his clothes, none of which thankfully needing to be lifted over his head, as they were all fastened at the front. Ryou gasped as the blankets were pulled down to his waist before Bakura lay back down on top of him, their chests touching. Ryou pushed at Bakura weakly, intoxicated by the wine, but it was futile. Bakura was too far gone as he kissed Ryou harder than ever, shaking. He wanted Ryou so much. He _needed_ to have him, to take him then and there. His animalistic lust overrode judgement as it so often did in bed, and he bit down hard on the teenagers' lip, earning a soft cry, tears leaking from Ryou's eyes as Bakura continued his rough assault, his hands on Ryou's face.

Ryou knew it was coming, but he still gasped in shock as the blanket was pulled down below his waist, and he was totally naked. Bakura's hands slid from Ryou's face, down his chest and stomach, until he found the clasp on his own trousers, and was able to yank them down his long, muscular legs. Ryou's head swam as Bakura still kissed him, his hands on the teenagers thighs, lifting them slightly so Ryou's legs bent on the bed. His stomach swirled uncomfortably, and everything was numb... _Oh..._ Three glasses of wine during any period of time were bad, but in the space of ten minutes... Ryou was totally gone. He moaned weakly as Bakura's sweaty hands cupped his rear, and the captains chest pushed him further into the mattress. _Oh God_. It felt so _wrong,_ this intrusion against him, but at the same time, Ryou thought it was... It was so different, and it awakened so many strange new emotions inside him. He'd never experienced anything in his life before that held so much passion and... Lust.

Ryou's eyes widened, and then lowered, as he relaxed into the mattress, Bakura's hands literally grabbing handfuls whatever loose flesh he could find on Ryou's skinny frame. He ground his hips into Ryou, hard, earning a strangled gasp from the younger male. Ryou was shaking as Bakura attacked him, overloading his senses and emotions. It was all too much for Ryou, sweet, innocent little virginal Ryou, who was drunk off his feet. He was pressed flush up against Bakura, who was as naked as he was, being kissed with a terrific fervour, while the mans' bony fingers massaged Ryou's rear and thighs.

And yet, _somehow_... A part of Ryou didn't want it to stop.

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Ooh Smexy. -wink- XD

R&R! Hell yeah XD


	7. Chapter 7

Here! An update! Yeeeey XD

Disclaimer: I own nothing. XD XD XD

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It was rather like being in a huge wooden cradle.

Ryou groaned weakly, curled in a fetal position under the blankets. The slow, steady rocking of the ship gently pushed him from side to side, so slow and tiny and insignificant, he could barely feel it. The teenager buried his face in the pillow as sun streamed through the windows. Ryou sighed, deeply, momentarily forgetting his plight.

It was the sharp bust of pain, stemming from his rear and crackling up his spine that brought him back to reality with a crash. Ryou gasped, screwing his eyes up tightly as he grasped the sheets. Oh, it _hurt_ so much! It was like a fire, all across his rear and back. Ryou whimpered, softly, burying his head in the pillows again. Tears pricked in the whitenette's eyes, and he moaned weakly. _Oh, that hurts so..._ He grabbed the pillow, holding it tightly. Through the muddled haze of pain, memories and recognition flashed through his mind. He vaguely remembered what had happened... Bakura feeding him tiny delicacies, and the French sweet wine..._Oh, that was not a good idea..._ Ryou whimpered, closing his eyes at the thought. And then Bakura kissed him... Rough and hard. _And that is almost exactly how the night went._ Ryou mournfully remembered, clutching handfuls of the pillow. Through the murky fog of alcohol, Ryou was able to vaguely recall what Bakura had done to him. Being held down forcefully by his shoulders, his face buried in the pillows as long sharp nails raked across his back...

Ryou moaned weakly, his entire frame shaking madly. How could it hurt so much? The whitenette was shaking as he pulled his thick wad of blankets up to his ears, trying to hide as much of his body as he could, for privacy's sake. Ryou really wanted nothing more than to have a long, hot bath, soaking in bubbles for hours, before getting dressed in warm clean clothes and going back to his own bed at home.

_I want my mother._

The thought brought Ryou to a whole new low. It was true, Ryou wanted his calm, caring and sweet-hearted mother to just love and hold him, tell him it was going to be all right...

It hadn't really sunk in to Ryou that they were dead. The usual rites that one went through when they were dead –the cleansing from the minister, the burial, the reading of the will... Ryou's parents hadn't gone through any of that. They were just stabbed, murdered, bled to death in their sitting-room floor, and then burned, their ashes dispersing in the strong, salty wind. Ryou pressed his lips together, and shook harder, his heart aching for his parents, his home and his possessions... He was starting to warm up to the idea of living on the shop as maybe a companion of Bakura, where he could float endlessly on the seas, forgetting the stress of his hard village life, and the chilling fear that, after three years, his father may finally be found and tried for treason. But Bakura's horrific, animalistic rape had driven all such thoughts out of Ryou's mind. He was scared, alone, and in pain. And nothing, it seemed could drive the strong sense of misery from him.

_This is my life now._ Ryou sobbed harder. _I have become nothing but a cheap, common whore. I... I cannot let Bakura do this to me. _If he were feeling a little less miserable, and a little more angry, a seed of resolve would have almost unnoticeably swollen in his chest. But as he was, Ryou was heartbroken. Being brought up with strong, almost puritan faith, the slim whitenette was constantly instructed on the importance, and sanctity of marriage. How he was supposed to save himself for his wife. And to be taken by another male... Although he had done nothing wrong, Ryou felt like a heretic.

"Hey." The whitenette jumped slightly, after ruminating on his misery for almost half an hour, raising his cotton-white head from the safety of his plump pillows as Malik stuck his head through the door, staring at the little slender teenager. Ryou winced slightly pushing himself into a sitting position, and wincing slightly in pain.

"H-Hello." He breathed weakly, rubbing tiredly at his eyes "Wh-Why are you here?"

"'Cause." Malik pushed the door fully open, holding a chunky wooden tray in callused, tan hands. "Brekkie?" Despite his pain and exhaustion, Ryou's eyes lit up at the tin bowl of porridge and hunk of bread.

"Wh-Why thank you?" Ryou murmured politely, sitting up in bed with his blankets around his waist. His back and rear still pained him, but he forced it down, holding out his hands to accept the tray. Due to the rather light nature of his food last night, Ryou was so hungry, he was grateful for any food, and devoured the porridge as quickly as he could, while still maintaining his polite, aristocratic nature.

"Are you okay?" Malik asked gently as Ryou finally slowed down in his heating, the meal almost finished, tilting his head to one side to survey the teenager. "You look kinda sick."

"I..." Ryou swallowed as he set down his spoon, his heart sinking. "I do not feel well, no." Ryou shook his head. "It... It... It hurts." He finally finished, his tone weak and demure.

"I know." Malik murmured, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His eyes widened as he noticed the long scratches across Ryou's back, and winced. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Ryou's bangs fell into his eyes as he surveyed the Egyptian, the perfect picture of sweet innocence. "You did not do this to me, Malik... H-He did." Ryou sniffed, holding his hands over his mouth as he tried to hard not to break down in a fresh wave of tears.

"I know." Malik sighed, looking down at his feet. Although he could never admit it to Ryou, the Egyptian couldn't be angry at Bakura for doing this to his newfound friend. Bakura had been doing this to people since before he had even bought Malik, and, knowing his place, Malik had never dared to challenge it. He'd accepted it, really. He always tried to be a friend to them, so try and comfort them whenever he could, as long as Bakura had no problem with it. "Look." He finally spoke up, after a few long minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence. "I know where's there's some cream below deck... it's got herbs and stuff in it that's really good for relieving pain. I use it all the time whenever I scratch myself. Wanna try it?"

"... Well, it cannot hurt, can it?" Ryou bit his lip, staring off into space. "I-I would greatly desire some relief from this pain..." Malik blinked, not quite understanding what Ryou was saying. Comprehension dawned in a moment, however, and he broke into a smile.

"You're cute." Malik announced as he stood up, ruffling Ryou's hair. "I'll be back in a few, 'kay? You sit tight." Ryou nodded dumbly, still sitting with the tray on his knees. Malik took the empty bowls and plates of food, before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as Ryou thought he was alone, he sank onto the pillows with a low moan, pressed on his stomach. His back stung freshly, and he gasped, one pale, slim arm with a dark bracelet of bruises snaking around to examine his back. His fingertips brushed against the long, deep scratches that Bakura had inflicted on him, and closed his eyes, burying his nose in the pillow. He felt absolutely rotten, the cheer from having Malik visiting him and bringing food deflated. Ryou hugged the pillow weakly, the blankets hanging askew around his chest and waist as he waited for Malik to return. Never, throughout his young life, had Ryou felt so... violated. His fingers curled in the pillow. And he would more than likely be expected to do it again all tonight...

"Ryou." Malik closed the door behind him, clutching the little glass jar in his hand. "I'm back."

"O-Okay." Ryou sniffed, propping himself up on his elbows. "Wh-What do you wishe for me to do?"

"Just stay still." Malik instructed. "Lie down on your stomach with your arms folded under you, so you keep the skin still, 'kay?"

"Umm... Yes." Ryou nodded, slowly lying down on his stomach, his arms beneath him as told. He closed his eyes, trying to relax.

"Good." Malik climbed onto the bed, slowly pulling the down the blankets. "I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just relax."

"I know you will not hurt me." Ryou mumbled gently, his head turned to one side. He stared out of the large window, at the endless blue sea that glowed and shimmered from the sun, diamond-like sparks dancing across the rippling waters.

"Good." Malik nodded as he gently slid the blankets down to the top of Ryou's rear, staring at his back, the long gouges reminding him of whip marks. Malik shook it off quickly, uncorking the jar and flattening a callused palm. "It's real cold though, just warning."

"I-It will be fine." Ryou's hands clutched at the sheets beneath him, and his eyes were half-lidded. He gasped, his eyes widening as Malik softly brushed the first little blob of cream on him, and bit back a whimper.

"Just relax." Malik slowly started to rub his hands up and down along Ryou's spine. "I know it hurts now, but it'll stop hurting soon, I swear." Ryou nodded weakly, tears in his eyes as Malik slowly continued to rub the cream into his skin, around and around in slow, soothing circles, massaging the gentle blend of herbs and medicines into Ryou's torn skin. Gradually, as Malik's rough, hard-worked hands continued to massage his back, Ryou allowed his muscles to slowly relax, and he closed his eyes, his shoulders slumped in a long sigh. Malik smiled, gently applying a little more pressure as he worked on Ryou's skin. The whitenette's mouth twitched slightly in the corners, in the vague ghost of a smile.

"Th-That feels so good, Malik." Ryou mumbled almost sleepily as the Egyptian gently rubbed the cream into his skin. And it did. It felt soft, and soothing, to have a pair of hands on him like this, gentle and caring, trying to heal him, not harm him. "You are so good at this..."

"Thanks." Malik's smile grew as he slowly kneaded Ryou's back, straddling his thighs. The younger boy as so relaxed and calm at this point, he barely noticed. "Hurt anymore?"

"W-Well..." Ryou screwed up his face a little, despite his obvious comfort from Maliks' hands. "It does still hurt..." He mumbled, his face flushing red in embarrassment.

"Where?" Malik inquired, leaning over a little bit so he could try and look Ryou in the eye. "Ryou? You can tell me." The teen took in a deep breath, before opening his eyes again, looking up into Malik's earnest face, the blonde clearly concerned.

"Um... It still hurts... Down there." Ryou trailed off, his cheeks flushing further. He bit his lip, seemingly perfect white teeth nibbling on pink, plump lips. Malik's eyes widened, and he nodded slowly in realisation.

"...Oh." He finally mumbled, resting his hands on the mattress. "I can put some uh, cream there, but yeah, it is kind of a private place..."

"Is it?" Malik blinked as Ryou slowly propped himself up on his hands, staring harder up into his face. "Is it really?"

"Ryou..." Malik sighed, his eyes dulling a little in sadness. "I'll do it, if you want. But I understand if you don't want me to. Of course I'm going to understand. I'm just saying it'll hurt a lot less, that's all."

"I-It will?" Ryou slowly lowered his eyes, staring down at the mattress in thought. "It... It hurts ever so much..."

"I know it does." Malik murmured soothingly. "And I wanna help. If you let me, you could probably be comfortable enough to go back to sleep. Ra knows you need it..." Ryou was clearly starting to cave in, the prospect of a long, painless sleep clearly tempting. "I won't look." Malik promised, slowly brushing a lock of white hair out of Ryou's wide brown eyes. "Kay?"

"... Yes." Ryou finally whispered, nodding weakly as he twisted the sheets in his fingers. His face flushed redder than ever, and he couldn't look Malik in the eyes. "Do you want me to lie back down?" He inquired in his high, soft voice.

"When you're ready." Malik responded, nodding slightly. Ryou swallowed, staring down at his hands for a few long seconds. Firmly-taught lessons of modesty and privacy were to hard to forget, and besides, the trauma of anyone touching that... area, felt like it could trigger another emotional breakdown.

"... It has to be done." Ryou finally said, not looking Malik in the eye as he lay back down again, his arms this time hugging the pillow, in preparation for the inevitable onslaught of pain.

"Yeah." Malik looked determinedly away as he slid the blankets down Ryou's thighs, relying on touch and feel, respecting Ryou's wishes. The teenager shivered slightly, all of his skin exposed, but tried his hardest to keep the tremors down, swallowing as his heart thudded in his chest with nerves. Malik bit his lip as he slowly poured a little of the cream onto his palm, inhaling it's sweet scent. He lubricated a single index finger easily, and bit his lip, flushing himself as he continued to look at the ceiling, the door, the window, anything... "Uh, okay..." He cleared his throat. "You uh, you ready?"

"I-I think so." Ryou stammered, his limbs shaking. "Y-You promise that it will not hurt?" Malik momentarily closed his eyes, chewing on his lower lip.

"I can't promise that." Malik sighed, swallowing. "It-It probably will... A little bit." Ryou whimpered, his hands clutching the sheets tighter, fresh tears stinging in his eyes. "I'll try my hardest to make sure it wont." Malik tried to calm the teen. "And it'll feel a lot better later." Ryou was still and silent for a notable period, before nodding softly, drawing in a deep breath. "Okay." Malik nodded, his hands drifting down to Ryou's rear. He decided to focus his gaze on a chip in the ceiling as he slowly parted Ryou's thighs, the whitenette trembling violently. Malik swallowed, his face redder than ever in embarrassment, as he found the entrance to Ryou's passage, and slowly, his heart thudding, started to slide his finger inside.

Ryou gasped, twisting his fingers in the sheets even further, burying his face in the pillow. Malik bit his lip at Ryou's obvious discomfort, but didn't stop, forcing his finger further and further past that tight ring of muscles. Ryou cried out, softly, and bit on his lip to try and prevent it from happening again.

"Ryou, you're tensing up." Malik muttered, still staring up at the ceiling. "I need you to relax, okay?" Ryou whimpered, and slowly nodded, trying his hardest to slacken his tense muscles. "Good..." He winced as he managed to push his lubricated finger entirely inside Ryou, the whitenette still shaking. "That's good." He slowly started to rotate the tanned digit, earning a fresh cry from the teenager. "Ack! Sorry..." Malik felt so clumsy as he continued to try and soothe the burning pain in Ryou's rear. "Uh, there." Malik bit his lip, and withdrew his now dry finger from Ryou, wiping it on the sheets. "I'm uh, I'm done." He pulled the blankets back over the slim teenagers' form, and hopped off of the bed without looking at Ryou.

"Um... Thank you." Ryou murmured demurely, also not looking Malik in the eye. He pulled the blankets up around himself, slowly sitting up. "I am grateful."

"I know you are." Malik clenched his hands around the little glass jar, scratching his head with the other. "You don't have to keep repeating it, you know." Ryou blushed again. "You gonna be okay?"

"Wh-Where are you going?" Hair fell over Ryou's face as he stared at Malik, panicking slightly.

"Well, the railings need repainting, some of the ropes on the mast are starting to get rot, and the cannons need cleaning again." He shrugged. "Someone has to do it."

"Oh, I see." Ryou mumbled quietly, still staring down at the mattress. "W-Will I be able to see you again, today?" He asked in his gentle, accented voice.

"Sure." Malik nodded, smiling a little. "I'll put more of the er, stuff on this afternoon, and I think Bakura wants you to take a bath or something... You were bleeding a bit." Ryou nodded demurely. "Go back to sleep, okay? You'll more than likely need it."

"You are right." Ryou nodded, settling back down amongst the pillows and blankets. "I know you do not want me to say it again Malik, but thank you for your kindness. I do appreciate it very much." Malik shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"You're too nice, Ryou." He commented, his hand on the doorknob. "Really, you're way too nice." He murmured the last words after he had closed the door, leaning on the closed wood. It was so sad, to think that Bakura was hurting someone so sweet and innocent. Malik only hoped that Ryou could somehow not bear some kind of grudge against Bakura for doing it. _He might. He's that polite and well-mannered. He needs to if he wants to be treated right... Eventually_. And who knew? Maybe if Ryou remained as childish and innocent enough, Bakura could eventually tone down his abuse, or at least turn it into a more bearable experience for the young Ryou._ Huh. Who am I kidding?_

_Bakura's going to tear the kid apart._ Malik's heart was heavy as he started to walk towards the railings, his shoulders slump. _And no one else is going to be around to pick up the pieces...

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_

Awwhhh Sadness D

Oh well. I don't know when I'll be updating next. But it'll be soonish. I know where I'm going, I swears.

R&R!


	8. Chapter 8

YAY THERE WE GO UPDATE BUT IM SORRY ITS SO LATE!

-cries- I meant to update like, back in the second, but I had some serious setbacks (My kitten, Ryou is really sick X.x;;;) and problems with friends and argh I swear this has been one of the worst weeks of my life -.-;;

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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"Ryou."

The whitenette jumped as the ornately-carved door swung open, and Malik smiled at him from the threshold. Slowly, making sure he didn't jolt his still-tender rear, he pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes. It was mid-afternoon, and Ryou had managed to get an hour or so of sleep, by lying perfectly still, letting the gently bobbing of the ship lull him into a fitful nap. "You okay?" Malik stood half-through the doorway, staring solemnly at the teenager.

"I-I do think so." Ryou murmured gently, blinking. "M-My back and my... Well, it is hurting less, thank you."

"That's okay." Malik walked through the door, and Ryou noticed for the first time, that he was lugging a large metal tub behind him. The whitenette's eyes widened, and he twisted his fingers in the sheets. "All I can do to make sure that you're okay."

"You are being so kind to me." Ryou pulled his blankets, which were slipping, up around his waist. "I do not understand why you want to help me like this." Malik sighed sadly, and dropped the large tub onto the floor with a dull _bang_.

"Because I just do." Malik kicked the empty tub into the middle of the floor. "I don't need a reason to be nice to do you, do I?" Ryou smiled weakly, and brushed a rogue lock of hair behind his ear. "Look. Just don't let Bakura's attitude get you down, Ryou. This crew 'aint so bad." Malik made a face. "Well... I _hope_ we're not too bad a bunch. Bakura's a good captain, and a good friend, if you get to know him. He just..."

"Only sees me as an outlet." Ryou sniffed, his smile fading. "He does not think I am special."

"Oh, I dunno." Malik walked around the bed, and pushed open the door once more. "Look, I gotta go get some water. Just lie down and stay rested, 'kay?"

"All right." Ryou nodded, and lay back down on the mattress. He pulled up the blankets as Malik left the room, and rolled over onto his side, staring out the window. He slid his hands under the pillow, and sighed, his eyes half-lidded. The whitenette nuzzled the pillow gently, and closed his eyes, trying to relax. Ryou had to admit, that after three years of sleeping on such a tiny, straw mattress bed with a single blanket, this large, luxurious bed that could sleep at least three comfortably, with a mattress that seemed as soft as a cloud, large, fluffy pillows, and piled high with thick, soft blankets, was heaven.

"What I mean..." Malik walked back into the room, lugging a bucket of cold sea water. "You have to admit, despite the fact that he drugged you and tied you up the first night you were here, he didn't do anything." He slopped the salty water into the tub with a rush and a splash. "He didn't sleep with you now, did he?"

"N-No..." Ryou mumbled, his face pressed into the pillows. "He at least decided to wait one night..."

"That means a lot." Malik tried to reason as he walked out of the room again. The whitenette waited, remaining quiet as Malik walked in and out of the room, slowly filling up the tub of water. Ryou almost fell into a slumber again, caught in a half-awake, half-asleep lull, when Malik gently shook his shoulder, jerking him out of his trance.

"Wh-What..." Ryou blinked, starting. "What is going on?" Malik smiled and started pull back the blankets. "Is the bath quite ready?"

"Yup." Malik indicated to the bath, with a couple of towels, a lump of oatmeal soap, and a scrubbing brush, on the wooden boards beside it. Ryou bit his lip as he slowly sat up, eyeing the water, which had a suspiciously little amount of steam furling from it.

"I-Is it warm?" The whitenette inquired in his polite voice. "Or cold?" Malik forced down a smile.

"We're on a _ship._" He sighed. "Where the hell are you gonna get hp water on a ship? That's fresh sea water there."

"O-Oh..." Ryou deflated slightly in disappointment. "But you are right... it is what should be expected... I shall be getting in now." Malik nodded, and took the hint, starting to leave the room.

"I'll be back in an hour or so, to put some more of the cream on, 'kay?" Ryou nodded, and slowly pushed back the rest of the blankets as Malik left the room, making his way across the tilting floorboards to the metal wash tub. Not needing to take off any clothes, as he was already naked, Ryou tentatively dipped in his left food.

"Oh gosh!" Ryou jumped back, brown eyes wide. It was so _cold!_ _How on earth am I supposed to bathe in this? There must be some alternative to this..._

_But there is not._ Ryou slowly wrapped his arms around his middle. _This is it, remember? There is no hot water here. So I can either go back to bed feeling filthy, or at least try and clean myself off._ And despite the cold water, the second option seemed far more appealing, after sitting around in his own blood all day. Gritting his teeth, Ryou slowly started to place his foot back into the water. Gasping, but not letting up, Ryou stepped into the bath, slowly sinking to his knees. _Oh, that is so cold!_ The whitenette drew in a deep breath, and shoved his hands into the water, up to his elbow. It was still ridiculously cold, being water from the North Sea, but Ryou put up with is, the want to be clean too much.

Ryou was in the tub for almost forty-five minutes. After taking quite a while to get used to the freezing water, Ryou scrubbed at himself almost manically, trying to clean every inch of his skin he could reach. The feeling of being unclean still stuck to him, and he just wanted to get rid of it so _bad._..

Finally though, he had to admit that he wasn't going to physically get any cleaner than what he was at that moment, Ryou started to stand up, and climbed out of the bath. The air in the room was warmer than the water, but the teenager still shivered. He reached for the towels with trembling hands, wrapping them around his bony shoulders and crouching on the floor. Water dripped into his eyes, but he ignored it, choosing instead to merely close them, tightening his hold on the rough fabric. After what seemed like an eternity, Ryou managed to work up the strength to stand back up, and half-walk, half-hobble over to the bed. He collapsed into the blankets and mattresses, wrapped up in the towel, his hair slowly soaking the sheets. He felt a little better than before, but Ryou felt as though he would never be able to rid himself of the sense of violation that Bakura had inflicted on him.

"Ryou?" Malik entered roughly ten minutes later, to find Ryou pretty much dry on the large bed, the damp towel around his shoulders, and a solemn look on his face. "You okay?" The Egyptian closed the door softly behind him, his little jar of cream in his hands once more.

"Define that term." Ryou murmured, his eyes downcast. "I-I still feel so filthy Malik..."

"I-I'm sorry." Malik sighed as he approached the bed, before sitting down on the edge. "I I've don't know what to say. I don't. I don't know what to do... I've done my best."

"Oh, Malik." Ryou's expression softened. "The courtesy that you have extended towards me has been ever so welcome. You have helped me so much... I am not so sure why, still, but I am still very grateful for this act of kindness..."

"Oh, don't be." Malik rolled his eyes, scooting more towards the centre of the bed, and crossing his legs. "I'm just trying to help, is all. Now lie down and take the towel off so I can put more of this on, okay?"

"... Yes, that is fine." Ryou swallowed as he lay down on the bed, as Malik instructed, sliding off the towel, blushing.

"I'm not looking." Malik reassured his friend, staring at a spot on the wall. He slowly heaped a generous amount of cream into the palm of his hands, and rubbed it against the other, spreading the cool liquid over his hands. He started at Ryou's shoulders, slowly moving his hands in circular motions to rub in the cream, before moving down his back. "That feeling any better?"

"Yes, it does very much." Ryou murmured, his eyes half-lidded. "Thank you..."

"No problem." Malik swallowed, his hands on Ryou's thighs. The teenager tensed. "You know I have to do this."

"I-I know." Ryou whispered, biting back soft cries of pain.

* * *

Bakura sighed to himself as he stared out across the ocean. It was early evening, the sun dipping low in the horizon, staining the sky orange and colouring the water. He turned the wheel easily in his hands, the smooth, polished wood creaking. Bakura cast a quick glance down to his compass, making sure he was steering in the right direction. The shit cut easily through the water, and the strong breeze meant the sails billowed, ropes creaking with stress.

"Bloody hell..." Bakura muttered to himself, a solitary figure on the upper deck. He rubbed at his eyes, tired after being up for hours and hours with Ryou last night, fulfilling his sexual desires and frustration for the first time in weeks, and unlike the teenager in the cabin just below his feet, Bakura didn't have the opportunity to sleep.

"Joey!" He shouted, lifting up one foot to lean over the wheel as much as he could, shouting. "Oi, get up here!" The blonde, who was on the main deck, poring over cards with Tristan, looked up.

"Yes, Sir..." Joey rolled his eyes, shooting Tristan a smirk before throwing his cards onto the crate front, and standing up with a sigh. Bakura stepped back as Joey clumped up to the upper deck.

"Take the wheel 'til nightfall." Bakura tossed his compass to Joey, who took it and nodded at the orders, and grabbed the carved wood, as Bakura turned away, rubbing at his eyes.

"Where are you off to?" The blonde asked, tilting his head to one side and frowning. "You can't be going to bed this early." Bakura momentarily closed his eyes, knowing that it was true, and that he wouldn't be able to sleep. _I'd have to make myself __**really**__ tired. Wait..._

"Oh, I'm not." Bakura smirked, flashing Joey a dark look before walking down the stairs, already loosening his belt, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Joey rolled his eyes, before focusing hard on the horizon, clutching the compass tightly.

Bakura pushed the bedroom door open hard, which made his bang against the cabin wall. Ryou who was half-asleep in bed, started, gasping. Bakura crossed the room silently, kicking off his boots, and throwing his coat, shirt, and trousers to the floor. Ryou, who was slowly sitting up, trembled, and pulled the blankets over himself, hiding as much of his body as possible.

"Don't start that." Bakura snarled, crawling onto the bed, grabbing at the blankets. Ryou whimpered, and pulled back in retaliation, tears welling in his eyes. "Or that!"

"P-Please..." Ryou breathed, scooting back farther from the bed, grasping the blankets weakly. "D-Don't..."

"I said don't start!" Bakura snapped, and successfully pulled the blankets away from Ryou, who pressed himself against the headboard, closing his eyes. "God_damn_..." Ryou cried out as Bakura grabbed at his arms, right near the shoulders, and dragging him away, towards the middle of the mattress. Ryou shook his head, breathing heavily.

"N-No..." He was cut off, however, by a rough kiss on his lips. The teenager's breath stilled as Bakura's tongue pushed at his lips, struggling to part them, and probe his mouth. Ryou moaned, and struggled to keep them closed, struggled to make sure that Bakura couldn't ravage his mouth, but Bakura simply bit down on Ryou's lower lip, earning a soft cry from the whitenette, which turned into a strangled gasp as Bakura thrust his tongue past soft pale lips. His hands tightened on Ryou's arms, and he pulled on them, dragging the slim whitenette closer to him, pressing their chests together. How was it that Bakura was somehow just not able to have enough of Ryou? It seemed insane. Whenever he kissed, touched, even looked at the beautiful kid, something just swelled in his chest.

Bakura pushed Ryou onto the mattress easily, holding his bony shoulders as he deepened his lustful kiss, slowly bringing his body down against Ryou's. Tears ran down the teenagers' face, not wanting, not being able to stand the passion that was being thrusted upon him like it was. Despite his best efforts, Ryou wasn't able to fight back, or push Bakura off. He was just too strong.

Bakura's hands slid from Ryou's arms, up his shoulders, and round to his back, around by his shoulder blades. Ryou froze as Bakura's hands slid down his skin, going limp into mattress. _What if he realises..._

_Wait._ Bakura's hands stilled on Ryou's back, pressing against the pale skin that seemed, greasy... Slippery almost. The captain frowned, and pulled away from Ryou, who blinked, raising a hand to his swollen lips. Bakura pushed Ryou over easily, ignoring the younger males' soft cry as he forced him onto his stomach, Ryou starting to shake. _Oh no... Malik did say that if Bakura knew about what he was doing, he would get angry..._

Bakura ran his hands all up and down Ryou's back, staring at the way the afternoon sun gleamed off his skin, and how, when he leaned over and inhaled, it smelled...

"What the hell is on your back?" Bakura demanded, getting up slightly to glare down at the teenager. Ryou's eyed widened, and he swallowed, his lower lip trembling. "Huh?"

"W-Well... Malik came in earlier with a cream to alleviate the pains in my back." Ryou sniffed, and lowered his gaze, trying not to look Bakura in the eye. "It was harmless, I assure you, he only wanted to help-"

"That brat!" Ryou gasped as Bakura shoved him into the mattress in his anger, and clenched his fists. "Goddamn it, he's done it _again!"_

"I-I do not understand..." Ryou's voice trembled as he sat up, scooting away from Bakura, pulling up the corner of a blanket to hide at least his lower half. The man only shot him a glare, before he froze, starting to frown.

"Did Malik _just_ do your back?" Bakura's red-brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. Confused brown eyes stared up at him, still not understanding.

"Wh-whatever are you-" Ryou cried out as Bakura grabbed his arms, pinning him to the mattress. Winded, Ryou could only push against the captain weakly, as one of Bakura's hands started to slide forcefully between his thighs. "No!" Ryou gasped, and arched his back, screaming as Bakura savagely slammed a finger into his tight passage. It turned into another, louder cry of pain as Bakura slid in another cold bony digit, and forcefully scissored his fingers. There was no mercy in Bakura's eyes as he glared down at the small, frail teenager, separating his fingers further and further, until he was drawing blood from him.

Satisfied, Bakura withdrew his fingers from Ryou, and settled back, staring. Ryou moaned, and pressed his face into a pillow, sobbing weakly. Sure enough, amongst the blood that stained them, the man could identify the white flecks of cream that was obviously fresh to still be in there- a lot more recent, clearly, than anything Bakura himself had done.

_That bitch._

Bakura didn't know if he was referring to Ryou, Malik, or the both of him. He just couldn't believe the audacity of his two slaves. How dare they do such a thing? How dare they disobey him this way? Not only was Ryou his, and his only he was most certainly _never_ going to be shared with a slave, like Malik, no matter what the purpose of his exploration was.

"How dare you!" Bakura wiped his hand on a corner of the sheet, before standing up, and towering over Ryou, who remained curled up under the blankets, hiding his face from Bakura. "How _dare_ you lend yourself to Malik like that, Ryou! Are you really that common, to let a mere slave touch you in such a manner?" Ryou whimpered, and was sobbing weakly, humiliated, afraid, and in pain. Bakura glared down at the teenager, totally disgusted, for another moment, before turning on his heel, and walking away. He bent down to pick up his clothes, which he yanked on himself roughly, not caring if he tore a hem, or lost a button. He ignored his boots, and slammed the door behind himself as he made his way out onto the main deck. All members of his crew that he passed froze, and looked away, or busied themselves in other work. It was clear that Bakura was_ not _in a good mood, and it was just best to stay away.

Bakura made his way down the narrow rickety staircase, to the area below deck, where, sure enough, he found Malik, in the large crews' quarters. Fourteen pairs of eyes looked up as Bakura's silhouette filled the entrance-way, and everyone stood up, lowering their gazes in respect, hands folded behind their backs. Only Malik, who was too busy polishing brass candlesticks and lanterns on a little table in the back corner, remained seated, unaware of what was happened. That was where Bakura instantly ran, incensed, managing to stomp his feet, despite not wearing his boots.

"Malik!" A pale fist crashed onto the tabletop, and the Egyptian jumped, raising shocked lavender eyes up to whatever had caused the commotion. Malik was only to lock eyes with Bakura for a second, before Bakura grabbed at the collar of his shirt, dragging him over the table and sending the brass and polish flying. "What the hell is _wrong _with you?"

"Wh-What are you-" Malik gasped as he was cut off by a sharp blow across the face, and froze, stunned. The slap hurt, but it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as the dread and fear welling up in his chest.

"I'm talking about Ryou!" Bakura screamed, his uncontrollable anger getting the better of him. "Goddamn it, what were you thinking, doing that to him!" Lavender eyes widened in recognition, Malik struggling to regain his footling, knees weak.

"I-I was just trying to help-" Malik gasped as he was shoved against the wooden table, which skidded back across the floorboards slightly.

"You _listen _to me." Bakura snarled as he leaned in closer to Malik. "Stay _away_ from Ryou, and don't you dare do any shit like that again." The Egyptian swallowed, staring at Bakura.

"I-I won't, I swear..." Malik breathed, trailing off slightly. Bakura only snarled.

"I know you wont." He spat under his breath, aware of everyone looking at him. "You've just gone and lost your food privileges for two days. Dare eat anything and I'll _make_ you regret it."

"Bakura-"

"I wasn't finished!" Bakura growled. "You're not allowed to go anywhere near Ryou anymore. You see him, you talk to him, I'll made you feel sorry, get it?" Malik stared silently at Bakura with wide eyes, his lower lip trembling. For a moment, the Egyptian opened his mouth, considering yelling at Bakura, saying he couldn't do that and he was a person and it wasn't fair to ban his food and Ryou. But eventually, his shoulders slumped in a long sigh, and he nodded weakly.

"Yes, Sir..." He was near tears. "I-I understand."

* * *

I know it wasn't worth the wait... I'm sorry.

R&R?


	9. Chapter 9

Ugh. I know, it's been late, and when someone announces a hiatus, they usually don't update, but it was like, 70 percent done... I thought I might as well finish it XD

Oh yeah. This has a lemon in it. So if you don't like them, then skip it. Yesh. But who doesnt? Really? Why would you reallly be reading this story if you didn't like the lemons?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOOOTHIIIINGGGG

* * *

"Wh-Why are you angry at Malik?" Ryou breathed as Bakura slammed the door angrily behind himself, quickly yanking off his clothes. "He was only trying to help-"

"Look, don't even start!" Bakura exploded angrily towards the teenager. Ryou whimpered, pulling the sheets he had wrapped around himself up closer.

"Wh-Why can I not start?" Ryou mumbled, unable to look Bakura in the face. "P-Please do not say you were cruel to him-"

"Look, it doesn't concern you, so shut the hell up about it!" Ryou gasped as Bakura grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "He is nothing but my slave that I bought and paid for, and he can_not_ concern himself with matters such as you!"

"Y-You are angry at him." Ryou sniffed, closing his eyes. "Please, he was just trying to help, I let him-!" Ryou gasped as Bakura, shaking in rage, slapped him hard across the face. His hair fell over his eyes, and he curled his hands into the sheets, his face turned to one side.

"Stop saying that!" Bakura spat, his lip curling in a snarl. "God_damn _it..."

"Y-You did not have to hit me..." Ryou sniffed, the right side of his face stinging. He kept his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. "I-It hurt..."

"That's the point of hitting someone." Bakura growled, rolling his eyes at the childish tone of the boy. "God, you're pathetic..." His hands were shaking in rage, in a sick desire to just beat Ryou, pressing him into the mattress, raining him with blows, and then committing unspeakable acts to him.

"B-but I-I did not deserve it." Ryou protested weakly, his chin trembling, tears threatening to fall.

"Well you're bloody righteous, aren't you?" Bakura sneered, getting irritated with the teenager. He growled, grabbing at the sheets Ryou pulled around himself. "Don't annoy me, brat, I am _not _in the mood." Ryou shook his head, sniffing. "Ryou!"

"I-I just-"

"Look, shut it!" Ryou gasped as Bakura pushed him down onto the mattress, and stared up at him with wide brown eyes. "Stop talking to me as though you're..."

"Someone of privilege?" Bakura blinked at the spark in Ryou's eyes. "Someone who is above being treated like whore-"

"You are a peasant!" Bakura growled, gritting his teeth. "Therefore, you are _not_ above this-"

"I can trace my line further than you can imagine." Ryou was shaking. "My family have served the throne _personally_ since the reign of Henry-"

"_Your_ father upset the King, which lowers _your_ status." There was an ugly look on Bakura's face. "Deal with it-"

"I should not be made to pay for my fathers mistakes!" Ryou protested. "He was justified in his claim against Charles, no less! I have not done anything wrong-"

"Your once-high social status means nothing!" Bakura seethed. "Look where you are! We are not even in England anymore!" Ryou's eyes flashed for a moment. "We have no laws here! We take and plunder what we will and that's that!"

"But-"

"Do you know what would happen to you if we were caught?" Ryou's breathing shallowed as Bakura leaned over him, fully aware of their naked bodies touching. "You would be strung up without a second thought. A further insult to you _glorious_ family name, no?"

"I am not a pirate." Ryou's voice shook, and he bit his lip. "Therefore, I would not face such persecution..." Bakura chuckled, allowing a smirk to grace his lips.

"You're on this ship, mate. You're a pirate in their eyes." Wide brown eyes widened, and he shook his head violently, biting his lip.

"N-No. I-I am no pirate!" Ryou protested. "Th-That is grossly unfair, to be making such assumptions!"

"Well, they do!" Bakura gripped Ryou's arms hard, staring down into dark pools of chocolate brown. "Get over it, Ryou! You're not special here! No one is going to treat you any different. Didn't living as a peasant for three years teach you anything?" Ryou was blinking rapidly as he stared up at Bakura, his heart thudding in his chest.

"Y-Yes, but I-"

"Then why is it so damn hard for you to learn your place?" Bakura emitted a long, exasperate sigh. "Or are you just intent on trying to create havoc-"

"No." Ryou shook his head, swallowing. "I-I would never want to do anything of the sort, I-I assure you. I just..."

"Just_ what?_" Ryou lay down very still on the bed, staring up at Bakura's face. He looked away, shaking. "Oh, it doesn't matter." Bakura rolled his eyes, before cupping the side of Ryou's face. He pressed his lips against the teenagers' in a simple kiss, a gasp on Ryou's part allowing entrance into his sweet mouth. Bakura's kiss deepened, and he slowly slid his hands down Ryou's face, down his chest, daring to swoop into his most private area. Ryou squeaked, and writhed, unaware of the friction that he was putting between his hip bones, and Bakura's lower stomach. The pirate captain gritted his teeth at the sensation, and curled his hands into Ryou's skin. _Damn,_ the kid just made him so hard so quickly...

"N-N..." Ryou tried to talk through a mouthful of kisses, his heart sinking. Bakura merely growled, thrusting his tongue further inside Ryou's mouth, licking at the roof of his mouth, his teeth, his tongue –anything that he could access. "B-B..." In protest, Ryou began to snake his hand between their bodies, pushing at Bakura's chest. He was taken aback by Bakura's surprising assault, and was still in a stage where he found it, to say the least, extremely uncomfortable. Bakura frowned at the touch, and pulled away. He stared down at Ryou, who's chest was heaving, lips moving silently.

"What?" Bakura growled, angry. His lustful need for release was only growing stronger. He practically salivated at the thought of impaling Ryou's tight heat. His arousal twitched in response, and he gritted his teeth. "_What?"_

"I-I..." Ryou cleared his throat, swallowing. "I was on the verge of asking if maybe we could... Not..." He knew it was hopeless the moment he looked into Bakura's face. "No?"

"And _why_ would I fufill such a wish?" Bakura snarled, casting a smouldering eye to Ryou. "Huh?"

"W-Well... J-Just before, when you..." Ryou's face flushed with shame as he mentally recounted the afternoons' events. "I-I still hurts so much... I-I do not think I could handle..." He trailed off. "That." Bakura opened his mouth to say something, to yell angrily at Ryou, maybe hit him again, say that he was his possession and he could do with him whatever he wished.

_He has a point._ Bakura held back any form of expression on his face, still staring into Ryou's eyes. _He'll still bleeding like hell and you would hurt him so much._

_Wait, what am I saying? _Bakura smirked, as the mere thought of Ryou's reaction to a blindingly painful fuck that would leave him bleeding for hours and sore for days hardened his already aching arousal even further.

"And that." Ryou yelped as Bakura pressed on his shoulders, forcing him into the mattress, lying down on top of the teenager, crushing their hips and tangling their legs together. "Is half of the fun." He silenced all further conversation by biting down hard on Ryou's lip, sinking his sharp canines into the soft pink flesh. Ryou screamed, and arched his neck, gasping in pain as his lip bled. Bakura smirked, his heart thudding in his chest as he slid his hands down Ryou's chest, admiring the silky soft skin, and over his hips, the captain pressing his palms against the sharp jut of his hipbones for a moment. He sat up, leaned over, and stared at the thin form that he was pushing into the mattress, that shook, Ryou's gulps and gasps filling the room.

"This isn't right." There was a thoughtful look on Bakura's face as he stared at Ryou, who slowly raised his eyes to look up at Bakura, brown eyes daring to hope. The corner of the right side of his lips twitched in a smirk.

"I-It is not." Ryou murmured gratefully, relaxing into the mattress, despite Bakura's pressure, his heart lightening in relief.

"No." Bakura's insides glowed in sadism. "Only lovers fuck facing each other." Ryou froze. "_Whores_ face the other way."

"Wh- _No!_" His lower lip quivered and he raised hoping, _pleading _brown eyes up to meet Bakura's gaze, his lips slightly parted in a pant. "Please-" Ryou began to beg, to start a desperate attempt to spare himself from a night of agony, but failed. The pirate captain only forcefully pressed a splayed palm over Ryou's mouth, cutting off any strangled gasps that issued from his pretty, pink, plump lips.

"Just be quiet." Bakura muttered savagely, his arousal paining him, nerves tested by Ryou's constant whining. Ryou moaned weakly, the sound muffled by Bakura's hand. It turned into a high-pitched cry as Bakura, releasing his tight clamp on Ryou's lips, grabbed the slim trembling body by the hips, and forced him onto his stomach. Sure enough, the back of Ryou's thighs, especially between his legs, was coated in blood.

"No!" Ryou arched his neck and yelped, tears running down is face as his heart sized in fear. He couldn't bear the pain again, he wouldn't!

"Bloody hell…" Bakura cursed through gritted teeth. He pressed one hand on the back of Ryou's head, pushing his face into the mattress and blankets, silencing his desperate screams and almost choking him. Ryou's arms and legs flailed wildly still, and he squirmed about in an attempt to free himself of the lustful man who was pressing down on him. Bakura's response was to drag his hands down Ryou's back, and from his head, onto his bloodstained thighs.

"NO!" Ryou screamed at the top of is lungs, once he had been freed, taking in deep, gasping gulps of air. "Stop!"

"As if." Bakura muttered, only in a tone low enough for himself to head. He moved his hands hands to the insides of Ryou's legs, shifting them apart, forcing the young teenager to spread his legs. Ryou twisted and turned the best he could, screaming desperately, but the iron-like grip Bakura had on his thighs, pinning the slim whitenette down from the waist-down meant that he was unable to move, and save from the screams and pleas that no one at all heeded, and the slaps and scratches towards Bakura, that the captain bore without barely a flinch, he was utterly defenseless. Bakura leaned down over the terrified teen, eyes half-lowered, just imagining the sensation of plunging himself into Ryou's tight, bleeding heat… _Oh._ Bakura's arms all but wrapped around Ryou's thighs, and he pulled Ryou up towards him.

Ryou's breath hitched in his throat as he felt Bakura's throbbing manhood pressing against his soft, flawless round ass cheeks, his heart hammering in his chest. _Oh God no_ He inwardly screamed, panicking. He lashed out against Bakura, but facing away from him, and being completely immobile, was able to do little. Bakura ground his hips against Ryou, on his knees, with the boy pulled up against him, his neck arched, and sweat forming on his brow. Once again, he tried to thrust himself inside of Ryou, and failed, the moving and squirming of the younger one making it a difficult task.

Sighing, Bakura moved his hands on Ryou's body- One wrapped around his middle, pulling his chest to his back, and the other he slipped between their slowly dampening bodies. He grabbed the tip of his erection with slightly trembling fingers, and, biting his lip, started to guide it towards its destination. Ryou moaned, scratching and clawing at Bakura's arm that was looped around his waist, drawing him in tightly. It turned into a short, choked gasp as Bakura finally found Ryou's entrance, and slowly started to slide his throbbing member in Ryou's already abused passage.

Their reactions were immediate- Bakura gasped at the almost overwhelming sensation of Ryou's tight heat, still dripping blood, slowly engulf more and more of his throbbing arousal. Ryou screamed in pain, arching his neck, and pressing the back of his head against Bakura's collarbone. The intrusion of Bakura's fingers were nowhere near as painful as the monster that was slowly being pushed inside of him.

"You think you're in pain _now?_" Bakura smirked in Ryou's ear. The whitenette moaned, pressing the back of his skull against Bakura's jutting collarbone even further. "You _wait_."

"N-No…" Ryou sobbed, gasping in pain as Bakura forced more of himself inside the deliciously tight boy, who burst out in a fresh agonizing scream. "P-Please!" Ryou was almost beyond words as he clawed at Bakura's arm, feeling as though he were being ripped apart inside, the pain arching voraciously up his spine. The captain kept his teeth gritted, struggling to retain his composure as he had finally pushed as much as he could of himself inside Ryou in that position he was in._ But we can change that_. Making sure he still stayed close to Ryou, lest he withdraw himself from that _lovely_ sweet ass, Bakura pushed at Ryou's lower back, forcing him to lean over, but not fall onto the mattress completely. Ryou let out a choked, broken sob as he pressed his palms into the mattress to regain his balance, his hair falling all over the place. Moaning and crying in pain, Ryou curled his hands into fists, placed them together, and rested his forehead on them, gasping for air. Bakura's teeth were gritted as he grabbed at Ryou's thighs, spreading them further apart, and leaned over Ryou a little more, until he was at the point where he knew (from experience) that he would be able to penetrate Ryou the deepest.

Ryou screamed again as Bakura tried to push himself back inside the teenager, as deep as he could with each thrust, Ryou's warm, coppery blood acting as a sick, crude form of lubrication. Bakura held back a long, low moan as he thrust himself inside Ryou, finally able to bury himself in that tight, bleeding passage up to the hilt. Ryou arched his back inwards, crying out in pain, grabbing fistfuls of blanket. Bakura swallowed deeply, sinking his nails into Ryou's soft skin, his breathing harsh and ragged. The sensation of having himself completely inside Ryou, who was writhing and screaming beneath him, sent nothing short than shudders of pleasure down his spine. The raw, sexual, animalistic lust was starting to fog his mind, clouding any sense of judgment that he had retained after closing the cabin door.

Bakura gasped at the friction on his shaft as he withdrew himself a little from Ryou, gritting his teeth at the feeling of the teenagers' tight muscles clamping down on his arousal. He slammed himself back into Ryou, who let out a fresh yelp of pain, screwing his eyes shut tightly. The captain slid his hips back again, emitting a long, ragged moan, before thrusting into Ryou once more, harder this time. Tears ran down his face as he bit down on his lip, a small part of him determined to keep quiet. He whimpered, the small, pathetic sound bringing a smile to Bakura's lips.

"That's it." Bakura growled, as he pressed down on Ryou's lower back, the whitenette boy's arms and legs already trembling with the effort of essentially holding both himself and the captain up, drawing blood from his lips. "Keep fucking taking it." Ryou shook his head, crying. Bakura offered no comfort, no mercy; his only change was to speed up in his motions. Each time he smashed into Ryou once more, a fresh spasm of pleasure spread from his middle, snaking up his spine and making him shudder. Each time Bakura smashed into Ryou, gradually becoming harder and harder, Ryou let out a ragged, choked gasp of pain, his muscles rigid, feeling as though his rear and spine were on fire. Bakura growled quietly, and withdrew himself almost to the tip, his jaw set. He wanted to make Ryou scream. To break him and bleed him, reduce him to nothing but a quivering, sobbing mess in the blankets, tossed aside when his usefulness for that night was through.

Bakura, for the first time that night, managed to thrust himself deep inside Ryou's ass, all the way to the hilt, in one fluid motion. Ryou's eyes widened as wide as they possibly could, and, hating himself for doing it, he screamed, as Bakura hurt him worse than ever. Far from showing any signs of mercy, however, Bakura merely withdrew himself from Ryou again, and roughly pushed himself back into Ryou. The teenager was almost paralyzed with pain, unable to move, barely able to breathe, as Bakura cruelly sped up even more, Ryou feeling as though he was being ripped apart inside each and every time Bakura slammed himself into him.

But far from being in any pain at all, Bakura dug his fingernails into Ryou's back again, and continued his relentless assault on Ryou, feeling absolutely brilliant. His heart thudded in his chest at the already almost overwhelming feeling of Ryou's tight ass around his throbbing member, and the thrill of having the sweet, innocent, and beautiful Ryou sobbing and screaming beneath him, his skin damp with sweat, and blood almost dripping from his thighs. God, Bakura didn't know what he was getting off on more- The pleasure of pounding Ryou's tight little ass, having the torn, bleeding muscles cling to his arousal, or just watching and hearing Ryou scream and cry in unspeakable agony, pushed into the mattress. _God, I can't last much longer_... Bakura groaned, pushing himself to what must have been close to the end of his limit, unsure whether his exhaustion, or the need to come would interrupt his rough, wild bout of sex with Ryou, that he didn't ever want to stop...

Much, much too quickly, in Bakura's eyes, he felt the pressure building in his lower abdomen, which spread quickly to his groin. The captain, rather than slowing his animalistic thrusting into Ryou's ass, in order to prolong the fantastic sensation of ecstasy, he retained his wild pounding into the teenaged boy, Ryou writhing and screaming beneath him in agony. Bakura could only take a few more seconds, before he froze, a final, ragged gasp tearing from his throat as his entire form exploded. It were as though a bomb went off in his midsection, rushing up to the tips of his fingers and toes. It was _fantastic._ Bakura's nails dug into Ryou's satin-soft skin as he came, his heart thudding faster than ever before. Ryou whimpered, in clear agony, as Bakura spilled his semen into his abused passage. Oh, it _burned_…

"Bloody…" Words failed Bakura as he slumped into Ryou's shaking form. The teenager cried out from the weight, and fell into the mattress, his face pressed into the pillow. Bakura was lax, save for his quivering limbs, and his heaving chest, as he enjoyed the after-effects of what was easily the most powerful orgasm he'd had in a long time. "Hell."

"...Ow." Ryou finally murmured plaintively, biting back an enormous tirade of tears. His slim bony arms moved up, to tightly embrace the pillow. He curled his fingers into the soft white cotton, his breathing shallow, eyes stinging with unshed tears. The weight of Bakura against him was painfully heavy, and he just wanted to get the captain _off._ Bakura finally pulled himself out of Ryou quickly, and rolled over onto the mattress, his eyes half-lidded, panting. He was weak, exhausted, but yet his heart was soaring. The man lifted his head slightly, rubbing at his eyes, and looked over to Ryou, who was whimpering into the mattress, clearly trying so hard not to burst into tears all over again, his slim frame wracked with pain and humiliation. Bakura stared as blood started to trickle down Ryou's slender thighs, mixed with the small flecks of Bakura's semen. His lower back, and rear were marred with long, shallow, and painful-looking scratches that Bakura's nails done. A surge of pride rushed through Bakura's chest as he looked at the damage he had done to the innocent little teenager who didn't deserve it.

How was it possible to feel even more violated than he had before? It was taking all of Ryou's energy to hold back his tears as he curled over onto his side, away from Bakura, in an attempt to hide himself from the captains prying eyes. He was shaking madly, his back flaming, and rear in so much pain he thought he might pass out.

Finally, when Bakura thought he'd regained his grip on reality, he slowly sat up. Sucking in a deep, slow breath, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up, holding a hand to his forehead for a moment.

Ryou pressed his face deeper into the pillow at the sound of Bakura's footsteps walking around the bed. They paused to pick up his clothes, and Ryou heard the sound of material being pulled over skin. His breath stopped as he heard Bakura approach his side of the bed, digging his fingers further into the pillow as he sensed Bakura lean down to whisper into his ear.

"I'll be seeing you in a few hours." The captain smirked, before straightening up again. He cast a final look down at Ryou's naked, trembling form, before turning on his heel, and stomping out of the room.

Ryou lifted his head out of the pillow as the door slammed, taking deep gulps of fresh sea air. Petrified and shaking, he managed to grope wildly about for a blanket bunched at the foot of the bed. He pulled the first he could find, a thin sheet, and dragged up to his shoulders- He wasn't cold; evening sunlight was bursting through the large window, heating the room like an oven, he just want to _hide _himself.

Finally, when Ryou was sure that he was alone, and not likely to be interrupted, he let himself cry.

* * *

There we go. Love it? Hate it? Indifferent?

But yeah. That's it, For real this time. SEE Y'ALL IN DECEMBER -cries-

R&R!


	10. Chapter 10

Hiiiiiii...

So so so so SO sorry about the late absence -.- I really am. But shit went down and we went places and gah. xD

I own nothing.

* * *

"Mornin', brat."

Ryou groaned weakly, pushing face deeper into his pillow as the door slammed shut with a _bang._ Completely exhausted, still in pain, and sleepy, Ryou merely pulled the blankets up around himself further, thinking it was Bakura's voice he heard.

"I'm _talkin' _to you!" Ryou's eyes snapped open, and he bit down on his lip hard, shaking his head. _No no no! Not him, he terrifies me..._ "C'mon, get up!"

"Leave me alone." Ryou mumbled into the pillow, sniffing. "I-I am not in the mood-"

"I don' give a shit!" Joey snarled, grabbing the blankets and yanking them firmly off of the bed. Ryou gasped, and curled up into a tight ball to try and hide himself. "Come on, time for yer to get up. _Now._"

"... No." Ryou mumbled, shaking his head. He nuzzled the pillow a little more with his fluffy white head, slim white arms reaching around to hug it. "Do you have any idea how long I was forced to stay up for last night?" He yawned sleepily. "Due to Bakura's... Antics."

"Oh, boo hoo." Joey rolled his eyes. "Tell someone who cares. Bakura's up and about, 'aint he?"

"I am but fifteen." Ryou argued. "And Bakura is... Actually I have not inquired him regarding his age..."

"He's twenny-sev'n." Joey muttered, his hands on his hips. "I don' care. I gotta waste my day lookin' after you now, and you're not wastin' it in bed, you hear?"

"Bakura said that I earned my keep at nights." Ryou mumbled, not budging from the bed. "He said that it was perfectly acceptable for me to spend my days in relaxation..."

"Well, it don' help me." Joey snarled. "Don' ya get it? Bakura was dumb enough ta ban Maliks food fer two days. He's the one in charge of the ship, an' I'm in charge of the crew. And I know Malik workin' his eighteen-hour days of hard labour with no food'll kill 'im. So _get up_, and help on the deck."

"I beg your pardon?" Ryou slowly lifted his head, frowning. "I-I do not understand... Why is Malik being deprived of his food for two days?"

"Why do you think?" Joey bent down to pick Ryou's clothes off of the floor. "Touchin' ya. Bakura's bloody protective of his lil' boys. 'E knew 'e was gonna get in trouble if he was caught. Now hurry up and get dressed."

"U-U-Umm..." Ryou nodded as he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. His stomach twisted in guilt. _Malik._ He was in trouble now, all because of what Ryou did... Let him do. "I suppose so..." He held down a yawn as he brushed his hair out of his face, and blinked as Joey threw his clothes at him. He pulled them on silently, blushing as Joey refused to break his gaze with the teenager. "I-I think that I am-"

"Let's go." Ryou gasped as Joey cruelly grabbed at his bony pale wrist, yanking him into a standing position. "Pissed 'round enough as it is..."

"O-Ow!" The whitenette cried out, as Joey squeezed the still-tender skin, but the blonde didn't let up, pushing the door open and dragging Ryou out onto the deck. The sun was already quite high up in the sky, the rippling ocean sparkling as though it were encrusted with diamonds. It was quite pretty, really. "Y-You are hurting..." Ryou whimpered as he was pulled down the small flight of stairs, and across the main deck.

"Oh really?" Joey snarled, pushing open the door that let to below deck. "Tell someone who cares. Bloody 'ell..."

"Wh-What is it you are wanting me to do?" Ryou was beginning to get short of breath, his arm feeling as though it were about to break off. "I-I am not good at any labour, I am afraid."

"Well, guess what, princess." Ryou gasped as Joey pulled his little frame towards him, and stared wide-eyed into his coffee-coloured orbs. "You're gonna get good." He snorted, walking again. Ryou's lower lip trembled, and the uncomfortable feeling int he pit of his stomach grew. "Bloody pansy..."

"Th-That is not nice..." Ryou sniffed, keeping his eyes set on the grimy, dark floorboards, afraid he would lose his footing. Joey made a low rumble in the back of his throat, rather reminiscent of Bakura.

"Why don' you understand that I don' _give_ a shit?" Joey pushed open a rough door, cobbled together with crooked, rotting planks, and shoved Ryou inside. "There, Devlin." Ryou gasped as he slid a little on the slimy boards, and shot Joey a glare.

"And who is this?" A black-haired man with brilliant green eyes grinned. "Have I finally got that kitchen-hand I've been asking after for weeks?"

"Nah." Joey snorted, and rolled his eyes. "He's only helpin' ya wash up fer a bit. Ya hear Ryou? Any funny business, then..." He let the sentence dangle in mid-air, cold and threatening.

"I-I understand..." Ryou twisted his hands together, keeping his eyes down on the grimy floorboards. He felt sick. Why was Bakura letting this crazy man treat him like this? _Perhaps he does not know what he is like..._

"Ignore him." Devlin smiled as Joey slammed the door behind himself. "He's just a bit pissy right now because he's all but lost his hardest worker." He paused in his heavy scrubbing of a blackened old pot. "He's not a bad guy."

"Well, he most certainly seems like it." Ryou muttered, his gaze still on the floor. "What is it that requires my assistance?"

"You're cute." Devlin announced, shaking his head slightly. "I have a bucket of fresh water there." He jerked his head towards a leaking pail set on a rough-hewn table in the corner. "Grab a rag and wash out the cups and knives in it. Bakura and Joey hate their drink and food tasting salty. When you've done that, there's a bristle broom in the next room, you can work on the floors. And then dry the plates and make sure they're stacked nicely. And then-"

"Excuse me." Ryou cut in meekly, his face flaming. "But... I-I do not believe that I am able to perform all of these tasks... I-I am very sorry, but I-"

"-You can light the fires in the stove for lunch." Devlin raised an eyebrow. "Look, Malik usually helps out, and it has to be done, or no one gets their lunch, and I don't wanna piss Bakura off." Ryou blinked as Devlin grabbed a rag off a tabletop, and pushed it into Ryou's chest, who took a step back, caught off his guard.

"A-All right then." Ryou sighed as he slumped his shoulders. There wasn't really much point in arguing. He'd learned that in the grand scheme of things, Ryou was pretty much insignificant in everyone's eyes- Save Bakura. And Malik...

Ryou put the thought out of his mind as he despondently plodded towards the corner, plunging his hands into the cold water. Was there even any point in washing them? There was no sort of soap to be found, the water wasn't even hot, and there was no sort of brush, or anything really, to scrap away the grime that was fixed to the knives.

_Is that how all of the crew really see me?_ Ryou bit his lip, his stomach churning unpleasantly, with both nerves, and hunger. He hadn't eaten yet that day. _Am I really only perceived as a lazy whore? Because that is not true! It is not! _

_Bakura is right._ Ryou blinked quickly. _Whores get paid. I am not... So that makes me even lower than a whore. A slave. How can I sink from a heir to a title, to a poor fishermans' son, to a bedroom slave the way that I have? It just seems unjustified and extremely unfair... But then, again, I do suppose that the sad fact is that life has never been very fair to me._

_Sometimes, I feel as though it will never be fair..._

* * *

"Is 'e still in there?" Ryou jumped as Joey pulled the door open, his hands tensing on the coarse horse-hair brush. He kept his dark eyes lowered, on the grimy floorboards.

"Yeah." Devlin frowned. "But he hasn't finished what I told him to-"

"Bakura wants 'im." Ryou cried out as Joey walked across the small, dark room, and grabbed at his arm. "Now."

"Ow!" Ryou gasped as Joey tugged at him firmly, his teeth gritted. "Must you pull-"

"Shut it!" The broom clattered to the floor as Joey yanked Ryou out of the room, who gave Devlin a last desperate look, before the door was slammed shut.

"I-I do not understand." Ryou kept his voice low, and eyes lowered. "What is it that he wants me for?"

"We're 'bout a day away from London." Joey pulled Ryou along behind him as he walked down the narrow, dark passage. "And Bakura wants ta sort out 'is loot."

"His _what?_" Ryou blinked. "I-I beg your pardon, but I do not know how I can be of any assistance-"

"I got 'im!" Joey cut through Ryou, as he pushed a warped door, reinforced with iron, open. "'Ere ya go." Ryou felt a hard shove between his shoulderblades, and he gasped, forced into the room, his bare feet sliding a little.

"Ryou." Bakura stood up, and gave him a smile Ryou didn't like. The room was lit only with a handful of wax candles, burned low, and cast ominous shadows about the room. The only furniture in the room was a roughly made wooden table, and a chair behind it. There were a few chests against the walls of the room, all locked. "So glad you could join me."

"Wh-What is it that you require my assistance for?" Ryou's stomach ached with hunger, and he was exhausted. If Bakura wanted to play any games, Ryou was in no mood at all.

"This." Ryou blinked as he further stared at what was on the table, slowly walking towards it, curious. It was littered with items of little value- wooden cups and bowls, steel knives, and brass candlesticks- and also more expensive goods- A short stack of pewter plates, an array of silver spoons, a handful of goblets, and a few thin books. Ryou reached out to one of the books curiously. "Not that." He slapped Ryou's hand away lightly. The teenager frowned. "Not that rubbish. This." The white-haired teen stared at the middle of the tabletop, where Bakura had laid out the most valuable things of what had been stolen from his fishing village.

Most of it was _his._

"No!" Ryou's eyes widened as he stared at the jewellery, the gold ornaments, the finely painted miniature portraits in golden framed, and the big thick Bible, inlaid with gold. "This is _mine!_"

"Yes, I gathered that when I saw this." Bakura held up one of the miniatures. Ryou blinked. "You were such a cute child there. How old were you? Eight, nine?"

"I was eleven." Ryou gritted his teeth, and exhaled deeply. "Why do you have my family's things?"

"Why do you think?" Bakura rolled his eyes, exchanging a look with Joey for a moment, who was standing behind Ryou. "Ryou, why else would I invade anywhere? We steal, and sell them off to make money."

"B-But..." Ryou stared down at the precious heirlooms spread out on the table. "Now my parents are dead, these are mine..."

"Come on." Bakura was getting a headache. "Are you that stupid? I took them, they're mine."

"No!" Ryou protested, snatching up what Bakura thought was just a cheap gold pendant. "I want this." He also grabbed one of the portraits- Of their whole family, Mother, father, sister and brother. "And the Bible. You can't sell that for much."

"You're demanding." Bakura scowled, and pulled the Bible closer to him. "Look at this. Gold, in the cover. How can I not sell that for much? Even if I have to take it out-"

"No!" Ryou panicked, and pulled it back in his direction. He set his pendant and portrait down on the table, and flipped open the front page. "Look." Bakura stared, frowning. The front pages had been turned into a long, rambling family tree. "There's me." Ryou jabbed his finger at one of the very bottom names. _Ryou James Cooper, 1617-_ Was written neatly in black ink. "This Bible's been in the family since the Fourteenth century. You can't sell it!"

"Is that really all you want." Bakura stared down at the diamond-studded necklace, and string of pearls, a number of gem-encrusted rings, and the finely carved gold and silver trinkets. "What about this shit? All of these..."

"We used to have more." Ryou slowly picked up the portrait and the pendant, which he clutched to his chest. "But they had to be sold... Please, I only want these three things. The portraits too, if you really don't want them."

"A portrait of a treasonous, exiled Court member and his family?" Bakura snorted. "I'll have the frames, but you can keep your worthless pictures. And that cheap gold thing, and your Bible too."

"Generous." Joey muttered behind Ryou, who turned around, and glared at the blonde. "What?"

"Nothing." Ryou's slender little arms strained somewhat, as he picked up the hefty tome, cradling it in his arms. "Nothing at all..."

"Put those in my room." Bakura dismissed Ryou with a wave of his hand. "But gimme the picture." Ryou's hand tensed on the miniature. "I just want the frame, okay?"

"A-All right." Ryou slowly set down the painting, and clung to his Bible and pendant. "You swear?"

"I swear." Bakura sighed. "Christ, Ryou. I don't give a shit about that junk. I just wanted you to come in and tell me how old this stuff all is."

"O-Oh." Ryou relaxed, just a little. "Was there no other valuables that you found?"

"On _that _rock?" Bakura muttered. "Ryou, you yourself know that you were the only family with anything worth taking. Half the reason we only nicked from there is because we were running low on food."

"So, you killed about sixty people just for _food?_" Ryou gasped, incredulous. "How could you be so heartless?"

"Whatever." Bakura brushed aside the demand, prodding at the jewellery. "How old is this stuff? Is it real?"

"You cannot tell?" Ryou tilted his head to one side.

"What am I, a jeweller?" Bakura snarled. "Just tell me." Ryou shot him a look, and sighed, still hugging the book close.

"The diamond necklace is sixteen years old." Ryou stared off into space, numb. "It... It was my mothers. She wore it the day of her wedding. The ring matches... It's her engagement ring..." He ducked his head, trying to fight back tears. "She could not wear it when we lived in the village, it would attract attention. The ruby and sapphire rings were gifts... They are about ten years old, I-I cannot remember precisely..."

"The pearls?" Bakura pressed, lifting them up to survey them in the candlelight. "They're nice..."

"My mother received them as a birthday present five years ago." Ryou rubbed at his eyes with a free hand, resting his chin on the large Bible. "They were from France. The necklace was made in... I think Holland, and the rings are made here in England." Ryou sighed, his eyes drooping, tired. "May I please take my leave? I am weary, and hungry..."

"Sure." Bakura shrugged, as he looked down at the gold with gleaming eyes. "Joey, take him up to his room, and then order Devlin to sort out the cutlery, and what needs replacing." Joey nodded, and grabbed Ryou's shoulder, turning to leave. "Oh, and before you go." He rested his elbows on the tabletop, clasping his hands together, and resting his chin on them. "Ryou, I must know, what exactly is so special about that gold lump?"

"This?" Ryou held up the pendant on it's fine little gold chain. "W-Well..." _Oh dear. When he finds out, I am sure that he is going to take it from me... But I cannot lie, and I must say something..._ "It was my great grandfathers." Ryou looked down demurely. "It was a gift to him from someone."

"Who?" Bakura snatched the pendant from Ryou's hand, and stared at the engraving, eyes narrowed. It was a shield, with a rose, and a lion. _Where have I seen that before..._

"Q-Queen Elizabeth." Ryou whispered, clinging to his book. Bakura froze, and stared at Ryou, with his mouth hanging open. _Holy shit..._

"The Queen gave this to you." He muttered in disbelief, shaking his head. "Your family has a personal gift from Queen Elizabeth."

"Y-Yes..." Ryou felt like crying again. _He is going to take it away from me now, I know it... He cannot, it has been handed down for four generations..._ "Please, It is the family's most treasured possession, especially after we lost so much... You cannot take it!"

"A personal gift, from Gloriana herself." Ryou slowly shook his head, staring at Bakura. "An exquisite pendant, engraved with the crest of the most beloved Queen that England has ever seen, that has passed through her own hands. Now tell me, Ryou. Does that _not_ sound as though it could fetch a very handsome penny?"

"N-no!" Ryou protested, Joey's hands tightening on his shoulders. "You- You promised that I could have it! You promised that the gold and jewellery was all that you would be taking. I beseech you, you must-"

"Send Ryou back to his room." Bakura set the pendant down on the tabletop, amongst the rings and brooches and necklaces. "And then put him back to whatever he was doing."

"Got ya." Joey nodded, as he started to walk away, grabbing Ryou tightly.

"No!" Ryou cried out, struggling against the blonde while still trying to hold his extremely heavy book. "Bakura, you said I could have it! You said that was mine! Please, you don't know how much that means to me!"

"Come on..." Joey easily pushed Ryou through the open door, who shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

"B-But..." Ryou sniffed. "He said it was mine... He promised, he swore!"

"One of these days." Joey smirked, tugging Ryou along the narrow, very dimly-lit hall. "You will learn, to never, ever trust the word of a pirate."

* * *

And there is my craptastic update. Enjoy.

R&R!


	11. Chapter 11

Yusss, An update! Shitty, but still XD

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING BWAHAHA

* * *

"Dinnertime."

The grimy boot slammed on the freshly cleaned floorboards, right in front of Ryou's eyes, where he was scrubbing. The teenager stilled, and slowly raised his gaze, up a pair of worn boots, filthy breeches, a once-white shirt and a torn waistcoat, all tucked under a dark green coat. Joey smirked down at Ryou, and with a simple flick of his ankle, knocked over Ryou's bucket of cold, dirty water. The whitenette squeaked, and sprung up from his crouched position, lest he get his clothes wet.

"Wh-whatever was that for?" Ryou asked in a slightly accusing tone. "What on earth compelled you to knock that over?"

"I_said._" Joey leaned over Ryou, who fell back on his hands, eyes wide. "Dinner. Or do you not want food?"

"... Yes, please." Ryou said quickly, standing up and throwing his brush into the now empty bucket of water, which he picked up slowly. He was aching, weak, exhausted, and starving. He wanted nothing more than a hot meal, and then to just crash out on a comfortable bed and _sleep_.

_But Bakura is going to demand my presence tonight._ Ryou remembered morosely. _Perhaps, after I finish my meal, I could be able to squeeze in a few hours of sleep_...

"Good." Joey smirked, grabbing Ryou's arm and forcing him to walk faster. "Jus' dump the bucket an' shit there." Ryou nodded and obeyed, setting the bucket against the wall to an upper room, next to a long coil of rope. Joey pulled open the door that led to below deck, and pushed Ryou down, who blinked, adjusting to the darkness. "Just sit." Joey barked as they entered the main lower room, where most of the crew were gathered around the long table. Ryou nodded silently, and took his seat, to Bakura's left, staring down at his empty plate. Bakura, who was already lounging in his chair at the head of the table, considerably larger and more comfortable, gave Ryou a wink. The teenager paid him no heed.

"Devlin!" Bakura called out, taking a small sip of rum from his goblet- One that used to be his fathers, Ryou finally noticed. He clenched his hands into fists underneath the table, but refrained from uttering a word. "Food!"

"Yes, sir." Otogi ducked his head as he left the kitchen with a large tray, piled high with bread. Each crew member received a hunk of dry bread, except for Bakura and Joey, who each received two. Ryou watched, eyes widening as Malik came up behind him, struggling with a huge pot of stew. _Stew again..._ Ryou made a face, which Bakura caught, an eyebrow raised. Ryou cleared his throat, and shuffled in his seat, making sure to keep his eyes low as a generous ladle was dished out onto his plate. Everyone was diving into their food the moment it was received, and Ryou was no exception, shovelling as much food into his mouth as he could, his stomach aching in hunger. Joey had 'forgotten' to let him off for lunch, so Ryou was absolutely starving by the time even mid-afternoon had rolled around.

Ryou spooned up as much of the lumpy grey stew as he could, using his dry break to soak up as much of what was left as he could, washing everything down with his mug of strange-smelling water. He sat in his chair silently for a moment, watching Bakura and Joey, who, unlike the rest of the table, were quiet, and engaging in what looked like deep conversation. Ryou looked around for Malik, only to see that he wasn't there. _Oh yes, that is right, he is not allowed to eat... Oh, poor Malik, I am grievously sorry._

"U-Um, Bakura?" Ryou finally spoke up when it looked like Bakura and Joey were in a break from their conversation. Bakura looked up, and regarded Ryou silently. "I-I was only wondering, i-if perhaps I could be excused... I am weary and would like to retire to my –our- chamber for a short sleep."

"Yeah, whatever." Bakura waved Ryou away, bigger things on his plate. "See you later." Ryou nodded, and slowly stood up, making sure to push his wobbly chair back in, before backing away, and starting slowly up the stairs.

"... Wow." Ryou gasped as he stood up on the main deck. Spread out before him was the sunset. The sun appeared huge, hanging low in the sky, the clouds stained gold, the sky pink. Ryou felt as though he could just reach out and touch it. It felt like a painting, spread out before him. Sure, it wasn't like Ryou hadn't seen a sunset before, but he certainly hadn't seen one out on the ocean, his mind previously focused on other things. Ryou looked around quickly, realising that no one else was around.

Or so he thought.

"Pretty, isn't it." Ryou jumped at the sound of Malik's voice, before his face broke into a smile.

"Malik!" Ryou exclaimed happily, his face lighting up. "Oh, it feels as though I have not conversed with you for so long... Are you quite alright?"

"Yeah..." Malik nodded, staring out at the sky. "I'm okay... Wanna see something really cool?" Ryou blinked, and nodded. "Sure?"

"Yes, I am positive." Ryou tilted his head to one side. "What is it?"

"Here." Ryou gasped as Malik swing out, and grabbed Ryou's wrist, running towards the rigging in the centre of the deck. "Hurry up, we don't have long."

"Y-You expect me to climb?" Ryou's heart sank as he stared up at the web of ropes, that seemed to stretch up into the sky. "Now?"

"Yes." Malik muttered, jumping up easily into the rigging, climbing it expertly, like a monkey. "Come on, it's just like climbing a ladder. Don't look down, and you'll be fine. No one's fallen off this rigging and killed themselves yet."

"A-All right." Ryou finally agreed, placing one foot onto the rigging, and grabbing onto the ropes. Hand over hand, foot over foot, Ryou started to climb. Nervous, yes, but curious, and somewhat excited. _Four days ago, I would have never agreed to something this preposterous. Bakura and his... disorderly way of life has had a notable effect on me already_. Although Ryou was tired, physically and mentally, Malik had seemed so excited and genuine of what he had to show Ryou- It had to be good. And Ryou trusted Malik, even more when he realised what Malik had gone through. And he knew the consequences when he tried to help Ryou. And learning that someone who had just met him was willing to do that made Ryou feel so... Special.

"Hurry up!" Malik called down, climbing ever higher. "And don't look down! Or up! Just look at your hands, okay?"

"Y-Yes!" Ryou nodded, quickening his pace, keeping his eyes trained on his hands, blocking out everything else. He had broken a sweat, and his hands were starting to ache...

"Almost there!" Ryou heard a faint thud, like someone jumping on wood. "You're doing great Ryou! But hurry up, or you'll miss it!"

"Wh-What on earth?" Ryou sped up, and in a few moments, was looking up at what looked like an oversized barrel, skewered on a pole. "M-Malik?"

"This is the crows next." Malik explained keeping his eyes on Ryou, holding out his hands. "Grab on, and I'll pull you up. Just don't look down, okay? Really, don't."

"I-I would never dream of it." Ryou murmured, and crawled up as much of the rope as he could, before tentatively stretching out a dirty hand. Malik took it strongly, flashing Ryou a smile. The whitenette returned the grin weakly, and, shaking with nerves, stretched out his second hand, relying almost solely on Malik to stop him from falling.

"Good." Malik took a deep breath, and pulled hard on Ryou, who gasped as he was lifted up, until he was half over the rim of the crows nest. With a lot of panting and struggling, Ryou was finally in, crouched on the floor, regaining his breath. "You okay?" Ryou nodded weakly, brushing hair out of his eyes. "Good." Malik grinned. "Now close your eyes." He instructed. Ryou looked up at him, eyes wide and fearful. "It's okay, Ryou." He tried to console the boy. "Just close them, okay?" Ryou was still for a moment, deciding, before he lowered his eyelids, trying to relax. Malik bent over, and grabbed Ryou's arms, helping him stand up. Ryou squeaked, and buried his head in Malik's neck, shaking. The blonde froze, and patted Ryou's head, somewhat uncomfortably, before walking very slowly, leading Ryou around the thin pole that stuck through the middle of the crows next, and stretched up about six feet above them, to the western side. Grabbing Ryou's wrists, Malik placed Ryou's hands on the edge of the tiny deck. He stepped away, earning a soft cry from Ryou, who tightened his grip on the rim, not letting go. "Now, open your eyes." Malik smiled, a warm feeling in his chest.

Ryou gasped, eyes widening as he looked out at the beautiful scene before him. He was so far up, it made him dizzy, but if he looked straight out, Ryou was gazing straight into the beautiful sunset, which was about halfway gone, the sun still having about two-thirds of it's size to sink. He couldn't see the ship below him at all. All he could see was the beautiful sun sinking into the ocean, which glittered in the light, the clouds stained amazing shades of pink, red, orange, and gold.

"Oh my..." Ryou breathed, his eyes fixated on the burning sun, sinking into the sky. "I-It is so beautiful from up here..."

"Yeah." Malik blushed slightly. "It really is." But he wasn't looking at the sunset, he was looking at the white-haired teenager next to him. Ryou closed his eyes, the wind rushing against his face and through his hair... It felt like he was flying, and Ryou _loved_ it.

"This is simply enchanting..." Ryou smiled as he opened his eyes, staring intently at the sun-well, not really the _sun,_ but the area around it, lest he hurt his eyes. "I-It does feel as though one is just..."

"Flying?" Malik suggested with a smile, staring at Ryou. The teenager nodded, turning to look at Malik, who looked as though he were glowing in the bright light of the sunset, his hair stained orange, his skin a coppery bronze.

"Th-Thank you, Malik." The glowing sunset made Ryou's hair glow brilliantly, and lit up his face. "I... This is by far the kindest thing that anyone has done to me on this cursed ship..."

"Awh, it's nothing." Malik scratched the back of his head, his cheeks flushing pink. "Really. I just wanted to see you smile, is all. You've been so depressed lately..."

"You cannot possible not understand why." Ryou murmured, staring as the last sliver of sun disappeared below the horizon. "Bakura... He treats me as though I am a common whore he just took on a whim, Joey insists on being so cruel to me, treating me as though I am an animal of his, and not even Devlin can act kindly to me... I-I feel as though you are the only person I can call a friend here, Malik." Ryou blinked away tears, as he looked towards the blonde. "I-If you were not here, I donnot know what I would do..."

"Yeah..." Malik leaned against the rim of the tiny little deck. "Real pity you're not allowed to talk to me at all, huh?" Ryou sighed, and stared as the clouds were slowly drained of their colour.

"I-I donnot care." Ryou announced, staring at Malik determinedly. "I am going to talk to Bakura, you just have to wait and see. I am sure that I can persuade him." Malik blinked, a strange look on his face.

"You... You would do that for me?" He cocked his head to one side, confused. Ryou nodded firmly, his hands clenched tightly onto the railing. "Really?"

"W-Well, I said that I would, did I not?" Ryou blinked as he surveyed Malik. "What is wrong?"

"It's just..." Malik couldn't look at Ryou. "I-It's been a really long time since anyone has ever said they would do anything for me. For years now, I've always had to fight my own battles and sure, Bakura does stick up for me when some of the crew members get a bit rowdy, but..." He trailed off, babbling. "It doesn't matter."

"No." Ryou smiled, aware of how close they were. When did that happen? "I-It does not... Not really..."

"Oh, Ryou..." The whitenette closed his eyes as Malik reached out, touching the side of his face. "You don't deserve this. I know you don't, so do you. You deserve better... I heard you fighting with Bakura over your things today... I'm sorry."

"It was hardly your fault." Ryou frowned slightly. "There is no need to apologize."

"I'm saying sorry because I feel bad for you, idiot." Malik sighed, shaking his head. His hand was still on Ryou's face, now cupping his jaw. Ryou was extremely aware of Malik's hand on his skin, but failed to see it as any more than a comforting gesture between friends. Ryou's breath hitched in his throat, his heart thudding as Malik slowly brushed his thumb over the brown-eyed boys' lower lip, his hands shaking slightly in nerves.

"M-Malik, wh-what is it you- Mph!" Ryou's eyes widened as Malik softly pressed his lips against Ryou's own, his heart stopping for a moment. _Oh no. No God no._ His lips were half-parted, as he was caught in mid-sentence, but Malik didn't dare try to slide his tongue into Ryou's mouth. Instead, he tilted his head to one side slightly, holding Ryou's face in his hands as he kissed him. Ryou stood absolutely still, totally frozen. It was completely unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Bakura was constantly rough, demanding, and full of love. Malik's kiss was soft, sweet but still_wrong._

"Malik!" Ryou gasped as he finally managed to pull away from the Egyptian, his chest heaving. "Wh-What on earth are you doing?"

"C'mon, Ryou, I know you don't like Bakura." Malik sighed, hands clenching into the fists, grasping the air where Ryou's face used to be, before lowering his hands to his sides. "A-And... When I first saw you... I just..."

"Malik, no, you fail to understand." Ryou shook his head, dejected. "I do not like men at _all_." The whitenette looked away, over to the fading sunset. "Not only is it strongly prohibited in the Anglican faith, but I simply have no attraction in males at all..." He sighed as Malik turned away, shoulders slumped. "I-I am grievously sorry..."

"Don't be." Malik muttered, staring over to the darkening sky in the east. A star twinkled down at him. "Not like anything could happen... You're Bakura's."

"... Yes." Ryou was staring at the pink sky, shrouded in stone grey clouds. "I-I suppose that I am..."

"... Can I ask something?" Malik turned around, biting his lip. "Ryou?"

"Well, yes I suppose." Ryou nodded, grasping the edge of the crows next, looking over to Malik. "What is it?"

"Well... You know in your old village... You weren't betrothed to anyone, were you?" He asked, lavender eyes deep in thought, taken aback.

"Well... Actually, yes." Ryou blinked. "The daughter of the most prosperous fisherman in the village... T_éa_ Gardner. She was a year older than I. It was arranged for when I had turned eighteen... Goodness, she is... Dead." Ryou stared off into space. "I-I have not thought of her until now."

"You mustn't have cared too much for her, then." Malik pointed out. Ryou shot the Egyptian a glance, and shrugged.

"It was not as though I had any say in the matter... She was nice enough, and I suppose that I would have grown to love her..."

"You sound so enthusiastic about it." Malik rolled his eyes. "I was just asking, don't get all mopey." He grabbed at Ryou's wrist. "Come on, we really need to get down before it gets so dark we can't see." Ryou nodded in agreement.

"Well." Down on the main deck, Joey raised a blond eyebrow, lowering the small telescope from his better eye as the two figures started to climb out of the crows nest and down the rigging. "I'll be damned." Joey, who had walked out onto the deck at sunset, and noticed movement in the corner of his eye, witnessed the entire thing. Although he couldn't hear anything, he could certainly see plenty- including the part where Malik and Ryou kissed.

"Oh, my Ryou." Joey muttered to himself as he watched Ryou slowly struggle his way down the mass of ropes. "My, my, my. Bakura would be _so_ annoyed to learn that his precious little bed slave was having a war with his hand-picked servant..." Annoyed wouldn't begin to explain it. He more than likely would fly into a rage, beat Malik into within an inch of his life, and kill Ryou out of anger._And I bet Ryou would do anything to make sure Bakura never finds out about his little mistake..._ Realizing that he would soon be seen, Joey quickly scampered across the deck, pulling open the door that led below, and springing inside. A sadistic, evil smirk wouldn't budge from his face. _Yes. That slut would do anything to make sure I wouldn't tell... _

_Absolutely anything._

* * *

Yay Dramas! TeeHee

R&R!


	12. Chapter 12

Wooaaa, this is long... ish. Sorry bout the lateness!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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"Ryou." The whitenette jumped, rubbing at his eyes weakly as Bakura marched into his room, kicking the door behind him. The white-haired male paused only to kick off his boots, shucking off his clothes. "You up?"

"I-I am now." Ryou forced down a yawn as he slowly sat up. Was it wrong that he felt oddly comforted by Bakura's prescence? "What is the time?"

"Late." Bakura shrugged as he crawled into the bed, sliding under the sheets. Ryou was wordless as Bakura grabbed his arms, and rolled him onto his back. "After midnight. Had things to discuss. We're landing in London tomorrow morning, and-"

"Wait,_pardon?"_ Ryou sat straight up, surprising Bakura, who jumped back. "We... We are landing in _London?"_

"I just said so..." Bakura murmured, liking the way Ryou's eyes lit up with joy. "Now lie back down." Ryou flashed him a look, but obeyed silently, his joy and warmth snapping out like a light. "Good..." He looked at his little white-haired beauty for a moment before kissing him, a hand snaking down his bare chest. At last Ryou had learned to sleep naked... Ryou's breath caught in his throat, and something uncomfortable stirred in his stomach.

"B-Bakura..." Ryou stammered uncomfortably. "I-I cannot-"

"Shut up." Bakura growled, tiring of Ryou's refusal. "Don't even start tonight."

"B-But..." Ryou tried, sniffing. "I... Bakura..."

"Are you going to stammer all night?" Bakura demanded in a deadpan tone, leering over Ryou, who shook his head, and shrank away, brown eyes wide and pleading. "Good. Now shut up." He repeated pressing his hands on Ryou's shoulders. The teenager gasped softly, and grasped Bakura's wrists, locking eyes with the pirate captain. "What?"

"Please." Ryou begged, trying to force the softest pleading look that he could muster. "Can we not simply-"

"No." Bakura cut Ryou off with a smirk, before forcing his lips on the young teens, hands wandering down his sides. Ryou's eyes widened, and then snapped shut, screwing up tightly. Rather than fighting back, trying to push Bakura away, yelling and screaming for help that would never come, Ryou decided to not waste his time on something that was so draining and ineffectual. He tried his hardest to relax into the mattress, and buried his face into his pillow, choking down a sob as Bakura's hands drifted up his thighs. However, as Bakura pressed down on Ryou's hips, leaning over Ryou with his angular features twisted in a sneer, Ryou couldn't stop himself, and burst out crying, his sobs muffled by the pillow but still audible. He was so tired and confused and scared... Bakura frowned, and pulled up into a sitting position, staring down at his little white-haired beauty. "What the... Ryou, Stop crying."

"I-I C-Cannot..." Ryou sniffed as he lifted his head from the pillow, and wiped at his eyes with a wrist. "Please... I-I am so confused tonight... All that I am asking for is just tonight..."

"Come on..." Bakura muttered gruffly, unable to look Ryou in the eye. "Look, you're making me feel bad. Stop that. We've had this conversation before." Ryou sniffed, and propped himself up on one elbow, staring down at the mattress with hollow, red-rimmed eyes.

"Please..." He begged, slowly raising his gaze to the pirate. "I-I shall do almost anything that you request..." Bakura stilled, and sat up beside Ryou, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh?" He murmured lightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Anything, you say?" Ryou froze, realising the trap that he had put himself in. _Oh no..._

"I-I clearly stated _almost_ anything." Ryou say up himself, challenging Bakura, pulling a corner of the sheet over his waist for modesty's sake. "I have standards, Bakura."

"Clearly." Bakura leaned back, surveying Ryou through half-lidded eyes. "Seeing as you're a whore to someone so rich and attractive, you have _very_ high standards..." Ryou visibly bristled, a rare look of anger crossing his angelic features.

"How_dare_ you patronize me." Ryou allowed an extremely uncommon note of anger creep into his voice. "I am _better_ than this and you know it." Bakura only grinned, leaning back a little further, staring at Ryou as he slowly shook his head.

"I love that about you, Ryou." He murmured absently. The room was dark, but for the large, almost full moon that shone through the large window. "So many people in your position have been beaten down and broken in this time. But you have this spark, this... fire in you." He chuckled to himself, Ryou still glaring at him, incensed. "All right then." Ryou blinked as Bakura sat straight back up again, his angry facade slipping. "I shall take you up on your offer."

"What-"

"Kiss me." Bakura commanded simply, scooting forward a little, and then leaning on his hands so his face was just inches away from Ryou's. Chocolate eyes widened, and Ryou's mouth dropped open.

"Y-You cannot-"

"Kiss me, or I'll pound your ass into the mattress." Bakura murmured with a grin, absentmindedly licking his lips. Both sounded _great._ Ryou's face flushed, and his eyes darted from side to side, looking for an escape. His shoulders slumped when he realised there was no other out, and, looking miserable about the whole idea, he leaned forward, to place a quick, feather light kiss on Bakura's lips. Ryou lowered his eyes as he pulled away, cheeks the colour of a tomato.

"There." He murmured demurely, turning away and toying with the sheet. Bakura only snorted derisively, and shook his head, white hair flying.

"No way." He smiled, mock pleasantries in his tone. "That was barely a kiss, Ryou! Try again, and this time hold it. And don't be afraid to put a little tongue in, I don't bite..." Ryou's eyes were wide, and he looked at Bakura as though he was a snake. A moment later though, his shoulders slumped in acceptance, and he leaned forward, pausing for a moment, before he placed his lips over Bakura's, his head tilted slightly. Ryou slowly, shyly opened his mouth, vaguely surprised to realise Bakura's lips were already parted. Trembling slightly, Ryou started to push his tongue into Bakura's mouth, unsure of what he was doing. Bakura forced back a smile, and gently grabbed Ryou's wrists, moving his hands, guiding them up to Bakura's face. Ryou's heart thudded in his chest as his fingertips brushed Bakura's cheeks, and he tried to pull back a little from Bakura, the contact too much for him, but the man bit down lightly on Ryou's tongue, making him jump, and yank away, his face redder than ever. Bakura's shoulders sagged slightly, disappointed that such a great kiss was roughly cut short.

"Wh-Whatever was that for?" Ryou cried out, pulling his hands away from Bakura's grasp, and held a trembling palm to his mouth. Bakura only stared at Ryou, surprised. _He's a fucking good kisser... Oh, we gotta play a game like this again..._

"Well, you pulled out." Bakura countered, his hands on his hips. Ryou looked down, biting his lip, shrugging weakly. "Hm?"

"Well... You took my hands and were..." He trailed off, his stomach still fluttering at the sensation of kissing Bakura, touching his face. It was so unlike anything that he had ever felt before...

"I'm just trying to soften up the mood." Bakura sighed, grabbing at the blankets, which had been kicked to the end of the bed. "Okay Ryou, you won. No sex tonight. Now Lie down and get some sleep." Ryou shot him a look reminiscent of a wounded puppy, but obeyed, curling up slightly as he lay on his side, staring out the window. _Now lets make things interesting again..._ Bakura was smiling slightly as he pulled the blankets over the both of them, and then laid down, his body pressed against Ryou's. The whitenette froze as Bakura looped his arms around his middle, burying his nose on Ryou's hair.

"Wh-What are you doing to me?" Ryou gasped, starting to squirm in Bakura's hold, not understanding what was happening. Bakura only rolled his eyes, before tightening his hold on Ryou.

"Just relax." He commanded, raising his head to place a kiss on the juncture of Ryou's neck. The teen stiffened. "I'm just trying to snuggle here, is that a crime?"

"Trying to... snuggle?" Ryou echoed disbelievingly. "I am sure that you do not know the meaning of the word..." Bakura sighed, and relaxed his hold a little, nuzzling the pillow. He was so tired he could barely think straight...

"I'm not a total bastard." Bakura yawned, before he closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. _This is nice... Ha. Bet the kid's terrified._ And he was right. Ryou was absolutely rigid, his heart thudding and eyes wide. Bakura rolled his eyes, and dug a finger into Ryou's side, making the whitenette jerk. "Relax. You're not comfy when you're tense." Ryou whimpered, but slowly relaxed his muscles, trying to make his breathing as deep and even as he could. "Good boy."

"I_wish_ you were less patronizing." Ryou mumbled, low under his breath so he was sure Bakura couldn't hear him. Sadly though, he did. Bakura only chucked however, and with a bony finger, poked Ryou in the side again. The boy jumped.

"Just stay still and shut up." Bakura commanded, his fingers lightly brushing Ryou's flat stomach, making his hands shake. The whitenette buried his head in the pillow as much as he could whilst lying in Bakura's grasp, the moonlight shining in his eyes. "I gave you a reprieve, make the most of it." Ryou was still for about ten minutes, his arms uncomfortably folded on the pillow beside his head. He knew he couldn't sleep that way. As slowly as he could, not knowing how Bakura was going to react, Ryou lowered his hands, palms trailing across the sheets. The captain raised an eyebrow as he felt a pair of slim white hands close over his own, and smiled. Ryou sighed deeply, out of content, or relief, or otherwise, Bakura was unsure of. "You know..." Ryou blinked as Bakura moved even closer to him, his nose pressed against Ryou's temple, whispering in his ear. "When you want to be, you are a _fantastic_ kisser."

Grateful that a thick cloud had passed over the moon a few minutes previously, Ryou blushed a deep crimson in the dark.

* * *

"Good morning, Ryou."

Bakura had whispered the words in Ryou's ear so softly, sweetly, that Ryou didn't even realise anything had woken him up. The white-haired teen blinked, still half-asleep. It was the soft kiss on the side of his neck that woke Ryou up, who sat straight up with a gasp, staring down at Bakura wide-eyed. The man chuckled, propped up on one elbow, his hair falling across his face. "Sleep well?" Ryou sighed, and sank down a little bit, politely yawning behind his hand.

"I did indeed." He nodded, smoothing his rumpled hair, his legs crossed. He was at the stage where he wasn't exactly shy around Bakura, per say, but didn't flaunt anything either. And he certainly never allowed his eyes to wander too far. "Last night... You spoke of this ship approaching London. Is this correct?" Bakura rolled his eyes, and nodded.

"Yes. Don't be insecure. The shoreline came into view from the crows nest a couple of hours after sunset. The crew took turns rowing below deck, so we got really close. Now we're just going up the Thames. We should be docking at about eleven and its' nine now... You hungry?"

"Yes." Ryou nodded gratefully as he climbed out of the bed, rubbing at his eyes. Bakura smirked as Ryou bent down to pick up his clothes. "If you would, I shall be ready in a few..."

"No." Bakura had jumped out of bed, and closed a hand tightly over Ryou's skinny wrist. The teenager looked up at him, confusion in his eyes. "You're in London now. And you're spending the day with me, a supposed rich merchant sailor. You have to dress the part. And I'm sure you're paranoid about someone recognising you. It's been a few years, but you have a face that's hard to forget."

"I... Have been worried, yes." Ryou conceded, releasing the dirty clothes gratefully. He was very pleased with the concept of having new clothes to wear. "If I were recognized, then the consequences will be disastrous..."

"Exactly." Bakura stood up, and walked over to the chest, still naked. "This piece of clothing is from France. Latest fashion. Trust me, Ryou, you'll look amazing and turn heads. This is the kind of finery you were born to wear." Ryou blushed a little, and inclined his head in a slight nod, standing up to accept the clothes.

"Thank you, Bakura, I am- No." Ryou froze when he saw what Bakura was actually hefting in his arms, eyes widening. _"Bakura._"

It was a dress. Made out of an expensive gold cloth, embroidered with brighter golden thread, with a wide, scooped out neckline and sleeves that ended just below the elbow, edged in fine cream lace. The large overskirt was pulled away at the centre, as was the fashion, to show spotless skirts of cream silk. It was the kind of dress Ryou would have died for, were he a woman. As it was, his skin crawled at the thought of wearing it.

"I am a male!" Ryou protested in a high voice as Bakura threw it on the bed, and started going through the chest again. "You cannot and will not dress me up like a woman! I will not submit to this humiliation!"

"Well, Ryou." The whitenette gulped as Bakura threw a corset and a complicated looking array of underskirts on the bed. "The way I see it, you have no choice. As your master, I control you. And I am saying that if you want to leave the ship and explore London, which you have pined for so deeply for three years, and will probably not see for a long long time again, then you will dress up in this. If not, then you'll be locked in this room for the entire duration of our stay, and will not even get to see London, you understand me?"

"But... This is not fair." Ryou protested weakly as Bakura pulled out a fine pair of breeches, and a clean white shirt. Ryou watched as he pulled them on. "You cannot be serious..."

"Look, it's the perfect disguise." Bakura reasoned, a serious look in his eye. "Ryou, All the nobility knows everyone. If you want to walk the high streets of London, then you can't go as Ryou. Be reasonable." Ryou sighed, starting to weaken. Sure, the prospect of dressing as a woman was sickening to Ryou, who would never humiliate or degrade himself in such a way, but the pull, the desire to see London, to walk her streets and visit her art galleries and sample her sweetmeats and buy those odd little trinkets was too tempting.

"If you think it is for the best." Ryou caved in, bowing his head. Bakura's lips flashed in a grin, and he grabbed at an under-dress first.

"I'll dress ya." Bakura smirked, holding out the garment. Ryou held out his arms obediently, and Bakura threaded Ryou's arms through, and pulled it down his chest, Ryou standing still, obviously being as passive as he could while still being irritating. Bakura stepped back for a second, to stare at Ryou, who looked so... pure, and innocent in that simple white shift with the flowing skirt. Next, was the corset. "You ever worn one of these?" Bakura had to as he held it out, staring at the unforgiving boning. It looked painful.

"Once." Ryou shot Bakura a glance, to show how unhappy he was with the arrangement. "When I was nine, Amane forced me to wear hers for a dare... It was awful, I could not breathe..." Ryou trailed off, caught up in his memory. _Amane..._

"Take a deep breath in." Ryou winced as Bakura started to lace up the back as tight as he could. "Sorry, but I gotta give you a curvy waist, or you'll look like a boy."

"I-I think it will be clear that I am a male when I don't have any- oof!" Ryou's eyes widened as Bakura started tightening the laces, and leaned forward, grabbing the bedpost to steady himself. "I-Is this really ne-necessary?" Ryou's breath was knocked from his lungs whenever Bakura tightened the unforgiving lacing.

"Yep." Bakura smirked, starting on Ryou's stomach. "Suck in your stomach as much as possibly. Really tight now." Ryou turned back to shoot Bakura a filthy look, but complied, his teeth gritted as he held his breath, trying to pull everything in the best he could. Eyes closed, Ryou tightened his hold on the wooden post as Bakura pulled the strings, sure that Bakura was getting some sort of strange enjoyment out of doing this. _The filthy thoughts that run through that mans mind is astounding. And I do not mean in a good way._ "There. Done with the corset. You can breathe now." Ryou nodded, tried to let out a long sigh... Only to find out that he could _not_ breathe.

"Ba... Kura!" Ryou gasped, holding his hands over his stomach. It was like his lungs couldn't inflate again... "I... Can't breathe..."

"You'll be fine." Bakura was nonchalant as grabbed the underskirt off of the bed. "Step into this." He shook it, and held it out for Ryou, knees bent slightly. Ryou glared at him, and followed, holding his chest gingerly. He stepped into the dress silently, but Bakura could sense the bitter resentment that resonated from Ryou. "I don't know what you're complaining about." Ryou made a sound of annoyance as Bakura drew the skirt up to Ryou's waist, and started fastening it at Ryou's back. "You're lucky I'm doing this. If you walk in any of the fine boutiques of London, you would be recognized Ryou, you know that. You were the darling little boy of the court, who everybody doted on. They would ask questions. What happened to your father, who you were with, why you would show your face around the nobility again... How would you respond to that? 'Oh, my parents were killed in a pirate raid and now I'm the sex slave to the captain?' The entire crew and I would be hung without a second thought! Is that what you want to happen, huh? Is it?" Ryou spun around, and crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowed in a frown.

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty, Bakura?" He asked, his hands now on his hips. "Is it _my _fault that you are a pirate? Is it?" Bakura only rolled his eyes, and shook his head.

"You know, most people I would beat for insubordination, talking to me like that." Bakura picked up the dress, swinging it over one arm. "But you Ryou... Not only are you so weak and naive... Like a puppy... But you're so _cute_ when you're trying to take control."

"I cannot _believe_ you!" Ryou cried out loudly. "Why do you take such enjoyment out of being so demeaning to me! Why?"

"Just get into this." Bakura held out the dress, looking nonchalant. "Hurry up." Ryou growled –an unnatural sound- and reluctantly stepped into the dress, and held out his arms. "Good boy."

"Do not start that again." Ryou was near breaking point. He'd put up with so much from Bakura in just the past few days, and to him, being forced to wear a dress was just about the final straw. He couldn't believe that Bakura was willing to be so cruel and obnoxious about it. If Ryou had to be disguised, then why not as just a French or Dutch noblemans' child? Ryou was starting to think that this was less and less about being a disguise and more about Bakura messing with Ryou's head and showing the power he had over him. Bakura grabbed Ryou's arms, and threaded them through the sleeves, before talking around and starting to fasten the back. The bodice was boned, and it put even more pressure on his chest. Breathing was becoming harder than ever, and Ryou was sure that he would eventually pass out from the lack of oxygen.

"And... There we go!" Bakura stepped away, and turned Ryou around, who obeyed begrudgingly. _Oh Christ he just looks gorgeous..._ Ryou's pale skin contrasted with the golden fabric so nicely, and was almost the same shade as the cream on the cuffs and the skirt. Bakura's eyes lingered on Ryou's waist, which was drawn in, and so much slimmer and more feminine. _He really really does look like a woman._ Ryou still looked sexier naked –of course- but he did look pretty in the exquisite golden dress. _And you can barely even see the bloodstains unless you look close or know they're there. Malik and Otogi did a great job._

"I am_not_ happy with this..." Ryou muttered, crossing his arms over the outfit. "And..." Eyes widened in realization. "Bakura, I am not wearing any underwear!" Bakura grinned maliciously, and stood behind Ryou, a hand on his shaped hips.

"I know." He murmured in Ryou's ear, smiling. "Isn't the thought just..." He trailed off, his hands snaking down Ryou's stomach, pressing down hard against Ryou's thighs underneath all of the skirts. Ryou stiffened, and said nothing. "No?"

"You are depraved." Ryou pushed Bakura away, his voice catching in his throat. "Just when I was starting to think that maybe I could _trust_you..." Bakura frowned, staring at Ryou. _Does he mean that? Does he really trust me? Nah. He can't. I'm a total asshole to him._

"Look, Ryou." Bakura forced a diplomatic tone in his voice. "I have some shoes... Somewhere." Ryou looked on coldly as Bakura started rifling through the chest again. "They match the dress. And... Oooh, here it is." Ryou was still frowning as Bakura threw the shoes onto the floorboards, and walked towards them slowly. "Put them on."

"... Very well." Because he couldn't bend down, Ryou straightened the shoes with a foot, lifting up the skirts so he could see what he was doing. He slipped his feet inside the satin high heels, wincing as his toes were partially crushed. "They are too small..."

"Tough." Bakura muttered harshly, straightening up. "Close your eyes." His hands balled into fists, toes curling in his shoes in a bid to alleviate the pressure, Ryou closed his eyes, head bowed slightly. His curiosity was sparked however, as he felt Bakura gather his hair at the nape of his neck, and tied it in a bun with what must have been a hair ribbon. Then, Ryou felt something strange, like a loose hat, being placed upon his head, and pulled down tightly. He heard Bakura walk around to face him, but kept his eyes closed, screwing his face up as Bakura tucked any stray wisps of white out of his face. _What on earth is going on_... "Done." Bakura stepped away in satisfaction, and Ryou opened his eyes cautiously. "Hmm. Looks good."

"What..." Ryou raised his hands to his head touching whatever was put there cautiously. It just felt like hair... _What..._ Confused, Ryou looked down, and jumped a little, mouth falling open. It was a wig. A wig of thick blonde curls that had been placed on top of his head, honey-colured locks tumbling over his shoulders and finishing halfway down his back. "A _wig?"_

"You look almost unrecognizable." Bakura smirked. He took a step forward, and placed a finger under Ryou's chin. He forced their eyes to meet, and without any further warning, placed a soft kiss on Ryou's lips. "Apart from that gorgeous face." He murmured flirtatiously, before stepped back, a hand lingering on his hip. He shook his head, and, yet again, turned to the large wooden chest. Ryou raised a trembling hand to his lips, something in his stomach softening.

"Bakura..." He had to ask, his curiosity was getting the better of him. "I must know... Where exactly did you purchase this dress from?"

"I didn't." Ryou turned away from Bakura, knowing that this anecdote was going to end in a grisly tale. "It was Joey, actually... You know how I said we went to Lyons?"

"Yes." Ryou clenched his hands.

"Well, When we all came back on the ship to get back into the ocean, Joey brought a girl with him. Dead nice, a French courtier. Hoped he could keep her. 'Course, I wasn't gonna have any of that on my ship. Women on a ship is about the worst luck you can have."

"Wh-What happened to her?" There was a stab of fear in Ryou's voice. "Did you... Throw her over? Or send her back?"

"What?" Bakura snorted, picking up what he was searching for, his rich red coat of velvet, and pulling it on. "So she could rat us out and send the French Navy after us? Bugger off."

"Then... What?" Ryou turned around, staring at Bakura, wringing his hands.

"Oh, Joey and I stripped her clothes off, passed her round to the crew, slit her throat, and threw her over board." Ryou stood perfectly still, in shock. "Come to think of it, I think Joey actually suffocated her... I can't remember..."

"You_ monster!"_ Tears welled in Ryou's eyes, and he took a large step back from Bakura, towards the wall, terrified. "How... How could you _do_ that to someone? A courtier, no less! What is_wrong_ with you?"

"Oh, come now." Bakura took a step towards Ryou. "It's what any self-respecting pirate would do." He grabbed Ryou's arm, and started tugging at him. Feeling sick with horror and revulsion he followed Bakura like a zombie. _I am wearing a dead girls' dress... That is __**disgusting**_"Look, We have to go down below deck and sort out what we're selling. I want to pay off the crew before spending anything on myself, and I'm not sure if what I have is enough... I've been slack with pay for over a month now..." Ryou blinked as he was pulled onto the deck, which was bathed in sunlight. Most of the crew was below deck, but Malik, Joey, and a few others were milling about –Malik with a scrubbing brush, working on the floorboards _again._ When he saw Ryou, however, he stilled, and straightened up, staring wide-eyed at the whitenette with temporary blonde curls, struck dumb. Ryou caught him looking, and blushed deeply, which was cut short, as Bakura started dragging on his wrist, heading to the small deck that led to below the deck.

Ryou was such a mix. He was outraged that he'd been forced to pull on such a nice dress, complete with corset, shoes, and a wig, embarrassed that Malik was lost for words at the sight of Ryou, and full of pity and revulsion for the dead girl that suffered a fate that just could be his.

_These people are all animals._ Ryou realised as he was tugged along by Bakura, noticing the lewd stares directed in his direction. _They have no morals, no boundaries, no... Anything._

_And Bakura is the worst of them all._

* * *

Hmm. Love it? Hate it? Think it's strange? I do -.- believe it or not, Ryou in a dress isn't my own perverted fantasy, it actually contributes to the plot. You'll all see later.

R&R?


	13. Chapter 13

Man, I don't know what to say.

I'm sorry this is late. I really am. I had issues with this, and then it kinda went all GAH from there xD But you still love me, right?

If it's any consolation, it's long. Like, looooong. Like, double the length of some of the earlier chapters. Or something. But yeah.

Okay, I'll shut up now xD ONWARDS with the fic! Right after the disclaimer, of course.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing at all. Not even the shirt off my back -it's a rental

* * *

"You all right?"

"_Yes."_ Ryou spat, teeth gritted, and nose crinkled in a snarl. "Can you not tell?"

"Now, now." Ryou gasped as Bakura linked arms with him, pulling the cross-dressing teen close to his side. "I hope you're not planning to make any trouble for me while we're out..." Ryou shot Bakura a glare, but was to careful trying to make his way down the slanted wooden plank, in high-heeled shoes that were too small for him. Malik brought up the rear, lugging Bakura's large leather chest full of items he planned to sell. The whitenette stumbled on a loose plank, and cried out, losing his balance. Bakura swore under his breath, and quickly wrapped his arms around Ryou's slim middle, lifting him just an inch or so, so his feet barely grazed the bottom. "Someone's unsteady on their feet." He muttered, somewhat mockingly, into Ryou's ear.

"_Someone_ is forced into women's shoes that do not fit." Malik watched the pair in front of him, and let out a long sigh. Was it wrong that he thought Ryou forced into that fancy dress was extremely pretty? Like...

_No._ Malik shook his head violently, a blush staining his bronzed cheeks. _Don't think like that. You know what would happen to him and you if you were caught together... And it's not even like Ryou's into you anyway._ Malik dropped lightly onto the wooden planks of the dock, lugging the large leather case behind him.

Ryou let out a short breath as Bakura released him, feet on the dock. Bakura still held tight to Ryou's arm, and the whitenette brushed the false blonde curls out of his face with the other. All around him was a bustling hive of activity. Trade ships were lashed to tall posts, crates being shifted onto large carts like a trail of ants. Beggars crouched on the ground, skeletal hands held out imploringly. The rich wandered aimlessly, the ladies hanging off black sleeves, clutching fragile parasols, while ragged children ducked and dived, clutching stolen chunks of bread and fruit. All of this Ryou took in with slowly widening eyes, his heart rising and a tinge of colour flushing his ivory cheeks.

_I'm home._

Ryou didn't even care about the constricting corset around his torso, the hot dress or itchy wig or the too-small heels. He was caught up in the sight and smell and noise of his hometown, and the exhilarating joy that slowly rose in his chest. How many nights had he lain awake in his old fishing village, missing the sounds of talking outside, no matter how late at night it was, the creaking of cart wheels and the laughter of children and the tolling of bells, near and far? London had always been so _alive_. It was as unlike as the dead hovel of a village as it could be.

"You look happy." Bakura muttered in Ryou's ear as he started to walk, heading across the docks and onto the cobbled streets. Ryou struggled to keep up as Bakura marched, trying to keep his footing in the tiny shoes.

"I am." Ryou growled back in a poisonous voice, still not forgiving Bakura for his perverted idea of a disguise. "You have no idea how long I have been pining to return here."

"Why?" Malik sighed to himself as he followed up the rear, lugging Bakura's cases, silently listening to the pair talk. "This place is a hovel. Have you been to Madrid? It's beautiful. And the Fjords of Norway are fantastic at the right time of year. Venice is a sight to behold, and the Americas have their own special... charms. The Indo-china Islands are breath-taking, the life is so foreign there. And Rome has so much history, it's amazing. Africa's really neat as well, some of the natives are fascinating..." Bakura sighed deeply. "How can you claim_ London_ to be the greatest city in the world?"

"It is to me." Ryou shot back defensively. "Bakura, I am not like you. I have never been anywhere else. Indeed, your ship is the first that I have ever set foot on. I was born in England, and it is where I will die."

"Naturally." Bakura muttered, before pulling Ryou closer to him, making his way down the wide street. Ryou turned his head this way and that, desperately trying to take in every detail he could. The children playing, dogs barking, men drinking ale, women hanging out of windows gossiping, pigs munching at filth...

"Where is it you are taking me?" Ryou asked after a moment of silence, looking up at Bakura. The white-haired man smirked down at him, and gave a knowing glance.

"One of my... Associates." He finished, with a smile Ryou didn't like. "I sent Joey ahead to go and find out where he is... If he's in London –which he will be- He's got message to meet us at the Royal Exchange-"

"The Exchange!" Ryou's face lit up, and he pulled up short in his walk, eyes wide. "You are serious?"

"I am." Bakura tugged on Ryou's arm a little harder, the whitenette gasping as he lurched forward a little, his toes crushed in his shoes. Ryou winced in pain, but Bakura pressed on, weeding his way through the busy crowd, a number of which shot him strange looks. He tightened his grip around Ryou's waist, almost as though he was sending a warning to all the others on the street. _Back off._

"Mademoiselle!" The pair froze, and Ryou spun on his heel, pulling himself free from the pirate captain to get a better look at the man who had called out to him. It was a wealthy-looking merchant, with a twinkle in his eye, and a look on his face that Bakura didn't like. He inclined his neck in a short bow. "Such an honour it is to have such a lovely young lady grace our humble shores."

_What the hell is he talking about..._Bakura frowned, before his face relaxed with recognition. _Oh. The dress. France has a different fashion to England, I forgot..._ Bakura smirked, wondering how Ryou would take this.

"... Sir." Ryou tried to make his voice as soft and feminine as he could, while frantically rifling through all the French that he knew. He smile demurely, although inside, he felt sick. He extended a shaking hand to the man, who kissed it gently, his lips barely grazing Ryou's white skin.

"A young lady like you should not be out in this sun." The merchant stepped aside, to show what he was offering in his stall. "I have a range of parasols, all colours and sizes, to keep the sun off your pretty face-"

"... She's fine." Bakura snarled, grabbing at Ryou's wrist and pulling hard. The teenager gasped, but followed obediently as Bakura marched away, the merchant lost in the crowd. "Git."

"Bakura, that was _not_ nice!" Ryou frowned, pulling his hand out of Bakura's grasp. "He was merely being polite!"

"Oh?" Bakura raised an eyebrow. "He was flattering you to get you to buy something, is all. What, did you _like_ him thinking of you as a girl?" An unpleasant smile spread across his face.

"No!" Ryou felt like slapping Bakura, and he probably would of, if he were in a less public place than a city square. "I get _no _enjoyment from this Bakura. _None."_

"All right." The man shrugged, grabbing at Ryou's wrist. "Whatever you say, woman."

* * *

"Smile."

The blonde only growled, and shot Tristan a glare before returning to his ale, taking a swig of the bitter liquid.

"I'm not in the mood t' talk." Joey muttered under his breath. "Or smile."

"Why?" Across from him, Devlin tilted his head to one side. The three were drinking at an Inn, waiting until sundown, when they could get their last few months' pay. Joey still had couple of sixpences left from his inflated pay- enough for a few drinks at their favourite London pub, where they could while away a few hours until they had enough money to splurge- on more clothes, expensive alcohol, good food, and women, waking up to nothing more than a bad hangover and a shilling and a few penceleft.

"Ryou." Joey muttered the single syllable, the other two exchanging a look. "I don' like him."

"Oh, big surprise there." Tristan chortled, rolling his eyes. "You don't like any of Bakura's kids."

"'Course I don'." Joey took a sip of his warming beer, making a face. "Not 'im anyway. 'E's trouble, I'm tellin' ya."

"Look, he's just a kid." Devlin pointed out. "He's only fifteen, he told me. What can he do, really? I think he just wants to stay here in London."

"Bakura won't let him go." Tristan leaned back a little in his chair. "Not someone like him, he's too good-looking he'd rather just use him until he dies or gets killed." There was no sympathy, or kindness in his voice. It was just a fact.

"'E's trouble." Joey said darkly, remembering the sight he had seen with his telescope a couple of nights before. How he and Malik kissed. Although the Egyptian had initiated it, the whitenette had never failed to pull away. Not for a couple of seconds, at least. There was something about Ryou that unsettled him- the flash in his eye, and curve in his lips that explained all too well what Ryou thought of his current situation.

"You're paranoid." Devlin sighed, an odd smile on his face. "Just don't worry about it. Let it go. Besides, you know what Bakura would do if he heard you talking like that."

"I know." Jounouchi muttered, before draining the last of his mug of beer. "I know, I know. 'M on top of it, tho'." He set his tankard down with a clunk. "Don' worry, I won' get in no trouble." _Ryou needs putting in his place. And I'll do it today, mark my words. _

* * *

"The Royal Exchange."

Ryou stood still, simply, a few feet in front of Bakura, his hands clenched together, clasped to his chest.

"It is..." Ryou sighed deeply, lost for words. "I..."

"C-mon." The white-haired man gasped as Bakura grabbed at his bony arm, just below the elbow, and started walking. He pitched forward, and lost his balance, slipping out of Bakura's grasp, and falling hands-and-knees onto the cobblestones. Malik's eyes widened, and he made to help Ryou, but Bakura shot him a poisonous glare, and he desisted.

Instead, he bent down, and took Ryou's arms, the boy shaking a little as he was helped up, his toes hurting. He bit back a reproach as Bakura stared at his palms, checking for grazes._ I find it very hard to believe if you actually do care..._

"We have to meet him up here." Bakura jerked his head towards a fine-looking eatery, with tiny, round tables and spindly chairs, a concept that had been taken from France some years previous. He led the way, his fingers entwined with Ryou's as he did so. The teenager followed, a hand self-consciously raising to his false blonde locks, making sure that the fall hadn't knocked the wig askew. It hadn't.

"Some of this is rather new..." Ryou stared around, at the small stalls that sold every luxury item one could list. Ribbons, lace, buttons, playing cards, perfume, fine soap, jewellery, scarves, gloves, paper and pens, books, sweets, and two or three places that served light meals, one of which Bakura was approaching.

"Wait here." Bakura paused beside a table with three seats. "Malik, watch Ryou." He didn't like the idea, but it was all he could do at the moment. The Egyptian nodded, and pulled out a chair for Ryou, who accepted it with a small nod, keeping his back straight, and hands folded in his lap.

"You okay?" Malik took a seat himself, perched on the edge, and leaned over to whisper to Ryou.

"No." Came the bitter reply. Ryou's expression was dark. "Malik, this is insulting and humiliating to me. I cannot believe that Bakura has the audacity to do this."

"Aw, it's not so bad." Malik tried to console his friend. "I mean... Hey, if it's any consolation, you make a really really pretty girl."

"Malik..." Ryou sighed, but there was a smile on his face as he looked up, and he shook his head lightly. "That may be all well, but I am _not_ a woman, am I?"

"Well, yeah." Malik looked down at the tabletop, the heavy cases at his feet. "Ryou, please, I know it's hard, but you can't be angry at Bakura like this. It'll piss him off eventually."

"He seems to find it intriguing." Ryou rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "He seems to take this... Pleasure, from being psychologically debilitating towards me. I really donnot like it." Malik blinked, frowning.

"Well, I have no idea what you just said." He chuckled a little, despite himself. "But Ryou, he's messing with your head, if that's what you mean." The boy in the blonde wig nodded. "Thought so. Ryou, you can either sit there and take his stupid mind games, or you can play it against him and give yourself the upper hand." Ryou tilted his head to one side.

"I donnot... Malik, why are you saying such things?" Ryou leaned in to utter the words in a quieter tone, worried. "I thought you viewed Bakura as a friend and ally."

"Oh, I do." Malik murmured lightly. "He's the best friend I've ever had and the only person who's cared about me in years. I'm just throwing some thoughts about so you won't be so miserable all the time."

"I... I am not miserable _all_ the time." Ryou lowered his gaze, nibbling on his lower lip. Malik rolled his eyes.

"Yes, you are. All you do is mope around the place, Ryou. It's sad. I only want you to feet a bit better." Malik sighed. Ryou tensed.

"Well, forgive me, Malik, but it is _hard_ for me to be happy with the situation I have been thrust into." Ryou's teeth were gritted, and his eyes flashed.

"I know." Malik's shoulders slumped. "That's why I was... Oh, forget it." Ryou opened his mouth to respond, when Bakura plonked on the seat beside Ryou with a grin.

"I just told the bloke inside that we're here." He informed the other two. "We're only gonna have a couple of drinks, and then Keith is showin' up."

"Great." Malik muttered weakly. "I can't wait." The pirate captain frowned.

"What's wrong with him? We've dealt with way worse before."

"I know, I know." Malik sighed. "I just don't like him. He scares me a little. Maybe it's because he looks at me like he wants to snap me in half..."

"Oh, he does not." Bakura scoffed, rolling his eyes. "He just thinks you should shut your trap once in a while."

"Why?" Malik shot back, angry. "I'm not his slave, Bakura." The man opened his mouth. "Or yours." He continued, knowing he shouldn't have, but he was just too riled up. Ryou gulped, and lowered his stare down to his hands.

"Ah, yes you are." There was a dangerous look on Bakura's face. Malik's hands, on his lap under the table, tensed. "Malik, don't look at me like that."

"Well, stop _reminding _me." The Egyptian shot back, jaw set. "I know I am, but you don't have to-"

"Both of you." Ryou cut in, unable to take the tension anymore. "Please, not in an area like this. It is not proper."

"Proper?" Malik was incredulous. "I'm just a dirty little slave, what do I know about being _proper_?"

"Malik, I never-"

"Ahem." The quiet, but imposing cough of the attendant made the pair stop short in their argument. "Sir... You requested a drink?"

"I did indeed." Bakura straightened his brilliantly scarlet coat. "A small glass of your most expensive strong drink."

"Certainly." He nodded, turning his attention to Ryou. "Madamé?" Ryou closed his eyes for a few seconds. _Why oh why does everyone assume that I am French? Why would a Frenchwoman of any status be partnered with a dirty English sailor, no matter how rich he is?_

"A sweet wine, please." Ryou flashed him a smile, using the best French accent he could once more. "Your finest."

"Of course." He bowed, and turned to leave. He'd only taken a couple of steps, before Bakura stopped him, with a deep frown on his face.

"Ex_cuse_ me." He muttered coldly, not caring that his voice rose a little above normal. "But you did not request an order from the entire table." Malik began to blush.

"I... Well, I beg your pardon sir, but I did not assume your manservant-"

"-Is allowed a goddamned drink?" Bakura cut over the man, his tone rising further. Ryou groaned, and bowed his head, holding a hand over his eyes as heads turned to look at them, whispers exchanged behind flattened palms. "How arrogant and pretentious do you think I am?"

"Bakura, I-"

"Malik, shut up." Bakura snapped, shooting the boy a glare. Malik sighed, and stayed quiet, his face flaming. "Now. Ask the paying customer whether he would like a drink." There was contempt in the man, Bakura could tell, but he couldn't help himself. He really couldn't.

"Sir." The attendant muttered stiffly, sardonically. "What drink would you be requesting?" Nearly every head in the vicinity was turned towards the table, where Bakura stood straight-backed and angry, Ryou made himself look as small as possible, shielding his eyes, and Malik wrung his hand under the table, his face redder than ever.

"Just a light ale will be fine." Malik stuttered, after clearing his throat. "Please." He added, as he was given a cold glare by the tall man, who stalked off with his nose in the air.

"Bakura..." Ryou mumbled, embarrassed, just knowing that everyone was looking at him. "Why, oh why..."

"Thank you." Malik looked down at the polished wood of the table, and kept his voice quiet, but Bakura heard him fine. The white-haired captain smirked, and leaned back a little in his seat.

"Hey, no problem." He shrugged, rubbing at his nose. "No one's allowed to jerk you around but me, Malik." The blonde smiled weakly, and nodded, his fingers entwined in his lap.

"I understand that perfectly." Ryou was surprised, and also pleased, that Bakura was willing to stick up for Malik when it was needed. "But did you have to make a scene in front of all of these affluent members of society..." He made a figure gesture to the people that surrounded them, all of whom were still looking at the pair with interest.

"Ah, come on." Bakura chuckled. "It'll be all they can talk about for ages. Don't get bent out of shape over this."

"I am not." Ryou sighed, rubbing at his eyes again. "Bakura, are you so uncivilised as to not know the meaning of the word etiquette?"

"Actually." There was an odd tone to Bakura's voice. "I'm more _civilised_ than you think." Ryou raised an eyebrow, and he was about to make a rebuttal, when the attendant return, with a silver platter, that contained three glasses. Ryou cleared his throat, but sat silently, as his glass was set down before him, and Bakura shot the man a glare, but he was ignored. Malik's glass was set down rather sloppily, with a dull thud, but everyone decided to let it pass, not wanting to get into more trouble. Bakura set the required money down on the table from a small leather wallet in his coat, which was collected stiffly and silently.

"... A toast is in order, I feel." Bakura announced, raising his glass. "To all of us." Ryou smiled, and Malik grinned widely, both raising their own glasses.

"To what?" Ryou tilted his head to one side, a blond curl falling into his eyes. He brushed it away with his free hand. Bakura paused for a moment, apparently deep in thought.

"To fate. To destiny. To chance. To whatever Goddamned force decided that the three of us are allowed to spend a beautiful afternoon drinking expensive booze at the Royal Exchange, when I should have been hanged years ago, Ryou should be working his fingers to the bone weaving fishing nets, and Malik should be picking cotton at some plantation in the Americas." They all couldn't help but smile.

"To luck." Ryou clarified, the sun catching his white wine, making it shimmer.

"To luck." Malik agreed, locking eyes with the white-haired boy for a moment. Ryou's breath hitched in his throat, and he looked away, hoping Bakura hadn't noticed. He hadn't.

"To luck." Bakura raised the small cup to his lips, and drank the almost toxic scotch in one deep gulp. "Whoa!" He shook his head violently, setting the glass on the table. "That was _strong_." Ryou giggled, before taking a delicate sip of his wine.

"Bakura, I have to agree." Malik set down his glass with a sigh after he had taken a long swig. "I do feel pretty damn good right now. The suns' shining, we're about to be rich, A night of partying and the like is set before us, we're in the richest area in the city..." He scratched at his head, and leaned back overdramatically in his chair. "It just doesn't get better than this."

"I..." Ryou set down his glass, a rare smile on his face. "I must say, that, despite the costume, I am actually finding this outing very... amusing." He finished, his cheeks starting to flush.

"Glad you think so." Bakura leaned over to kiss Ryou teasingly on the cheek, white skin blushing an even fiercer shade of crimson. "Awh, you're blushing."

"So?" Ryou shot back weakly. "All I simply said was that I was enjoying being here. There is no crime in that. I have no reason to be embarrassed for anything!" He continued, quite hotly.

"All right, all right." Bakura raised his hands defensively. "I'm sorry that I said anything." Ryou nodded. "But I must say..." He leaned forward a little, smirking. "You're so cute when you get all hot and flustered-"

"Bakura!" Ryou hit the captain in the arm quite hard, catching him off guard. Bakura flinched, and rubbed at his arm for a moment, shooting Ryou a glare.

"You." Malik took a deep gulp of his drink as Bakura cuffed Ryou lightly about the head. "It's true though."

"No, it is not." Ryou drained the last of his drink, which he had drank far too quickly, he knew. "Quit trying to flatter me."

"Fine then." Bakura shoved the boy, very lightly. "You're an ugly, disfigured, fat, plain, lump. Happy?"

"... I refuse to talk to you." Ryou muttered haughtily, turning away from Bakura, but the captain had seen the flash of a smile on his lips.

"Ryou..."

"No." The whitenette crossed his arms, nose in the air. "I am angry at you."

"But I wasn't being serious, Ryou." Bakura placed a hand on Ryou's arm. "You know I wasn't. You're beautiful." Malik's shoulders slumped slightly as he watched the pair, who were so reminiscent of a married couple, especially with Ryou dressed as a woman.

"Stop." Something caught in Ryou's voice, and he pulled his arm away, keeping his eyes low. _I wish that he would do not do this. _

But it wasn't for the more obvious reasons. Ryou was starting to get confused with the way Bakura was acting. Not how he felt –He felt no love or physical connection with Bakura- but how Bakura was feeling about him. He knew he could never forget the harsh edge to Bakura's voice, when he yelled and swore at him, his cold sarcasm, his insensitivity. _He raped me._

But this afternoon, today, despite his cruelty in the morning, he felt like Bakura was actually being nice to him. He was somewhat kind, natural and easy around him, and his meaningless banter managed to make him smile. _Maybe Bakura is not the heartless monster that I originally made him out to be. _

_What am I thinking?_ Ryou visibly shook his head. _I cannott be weakening like this. I cannot change my opinion of this man after what he has done after an afternoon of niceties._

"Bakura." The strange, new voice made Ryou jump. He looked up to the man, who had clapped a hand on the pirate captains' shoulder in greeting. "Good to see ya again."

"Kieth." Bakura nodded, shooting Malik a glare. "Sit down." Ryou watched silently, as Malik slowly stood up, kicking his chair back as he did so. The tall, muscular blonde sneered at the Egyptian slave as he walked past him, before stretching out in the spindly chair, looking as though he might break it.

He didn't look like some sort of dodgy merchant, Ryou had decided after looking at him for just a moment. He was very tall, and built up, wearing simple clothes, although clean, as though he didn't follow –or care about- the current fashions. There was a bandanna tied around his head, splashed red, white, and blue. Rather, he looked like the type of man who would be a famous pirate, as opposed to Bakura.

"And who is _this_ lovely lady?" Keith surveyed Ryou intently, putting far too much emphasis on the word _lady._ Ryou gulped. _So he knows. Is it that easy to detect? Or, does Keith just know Bakura?_

"Ryou." Bakura placed a hand on Ryou's shoulder, and squeezed lightly. "He used to walk the British circles. The getup is a security thing."

"Not just a kink?" Keith rested his arms behind his head. "Whatever. I understand you wanna trade some junk."

"Oh, not just junk." Bakura made a nod to Malik, who lifted up the smaller leather case, and opened it with a creak. Ryou swallowed, his hands clenched together tightly in his lap. The sound of Bakura's voice and Keith's occasional enquiries washed over him as he stared at the tabletop, watching as his most precious family possessions were lifted out, and displayed on the table, like cheap jewellery. His heart skipped a beat when the golden pendant was lifted out, and Keith requested to hold it. He turned it over several times in his large fingers, before setting it down on the table, a murmur of interest in his voice.

_He wants to take it._ Ryou screwed his eyes up tightly, the backs starting to burn._ No._ He felt... Ashamed of himself, more than anything. That was the greatest example of the legacy his family once held, and it was about to be sold off without a moments thought. _Bakura defaulted on his promise. He said I could keep it, and then changed his mind..._

_Bastard._

It was the first time in his life that Ryou had ever swore, even mentally, but he was so angry about what he had done. _He would never get more than fifty pounds for it... Is all of this pain over it even worth that? Really?_

Ryou let out a deep breath, before sometime caught his attention. Keith was holding up the diamond ring, examining the quality of the stone in the light, and Bakura watched him intently. Malik kept his eyes lowered respectfully. _I... I could take it._

_No, I could not._

Ryou bit his lip. He had always been taught that stealing was wrong, it was one of the strongest messages in the bible that had been drilled him almost since birth. _But stealing is defined as taking something that does not belong to you. And there is no doubt that that pendant does by rights belong to me. Bakura is the thief, the one who stole it from me in the first place. If I was to make it my own again, rightfully, would I not be doing good instead of committing a sin?_

Weak as though it argument was, that, coupled with his fresh anger towards Bakura, and his intense desire to have his pendant back, was enough to fill Ryou with stout determination, and, his heart hammering in his throat, cold sweat trickling down his back, Ryou slowly unwound his hands, placing the fingertips of his right against the lip of the table. He took in a deep, long breath, and, knowing he only had seconds before Keith would set down the ring and divert his attention elsewhere, he flicked out, and hooked one finger on the thin gold chain. As quickly, and quietly as he could, he dragged the pendant on the chain across the table, and onto his lap. His heart pounding worse than ever, Ryou cupped his hands over the necklace, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Amazingly, no one had.

"That's good quality." Keith nodded approvingly as he set the ring down on the table. "I am... Very interested in that. Are you sure of it's authenticity?"

"For the last time, yes." Bakura was exasperated. "It was made as an engagement ring for a very wealthy English courtier, you can't get very much finer than that. What's with the paranoia?"

_What on earth have I done?_ Ryou gulped, and clenched his hands around the little lump of gold in his hands. No one had noticed it was missing yet, and next to magnificent pieces of jewellery studded with diamonds and rubies and pearls and God knew what else, Ryou was pretty certain that it would be overlooked for some time. _Yes, that may be, but then what? What do I do now? Maybe I could just put it back when they're not looking, and then..._

_No._

Ryou's eyes widened in realisation, and he sat up a little straighter, his heart lifting a little. _This is London. My old home. I know these streets well. How easy can I just... Run away?_

_Yes._

Ryou was starting to get excited, but he refused to let it show on his face.

_I can locate my aunt and uncle easily, and they will show charity and take me in, would they not? They are still in the Kings favour –at least, they were in the last letter that we received. I would be safe there. I would be happy again, and in London. Perhaps in time they would even fund a university study, if I promised to return the loan. _Ryou was thinking too far ahead of himself, and he knew it, but he just couldn't help it. The prospect of regaining a life he had lost three years ago was just too tantalizing to not consider. He never once for a moment that he could regret leaving Bakura, because he knew that he simply would not regret it at that time. He saw the ship as nothing but miserable and painful, and was willing to take almost any out, and the prospect of reuniting with what was left of his family was too much to pass up.

_All right then._ Ryou licked his lips, and twisted his hands together beneath the table, winding the chain around his fingers so it would not be dropped. Then, he started to push his chair back, wincing every time the chair scraped against the ground, but Malik was seething quietly to himself, and Bakura and Keith were too busy in talk to notice.

_Go._

Ryou took in a deep, deep breath, and, steeling his nerves the way one does before taking the plunge, he stood up, and just fled. He pushed past other chairs and tables, and, despite his high heels, was six feet away from the table before Bakura and Keith even reacted.

_What the-_ On instinct, Bakura stood up, crying out, and Malik snapped out of his funk, lavender eyes widened. Bakura frowned, and stared down at the table. He growled in realisation, when he realised that the pendant Ryou cared so much about was gone.

"Get him." He spat to Malik, teeth gritted. "Find him, and drag him back here." A quick nod, and Malik, who was much faster on his feet, was gone, weaving through the crowd as Ryou had done a few seconds before.

Ryou's feet were already sore by the time he turned onto the main street. He froze for a second, trying to recollect himself and get his bearings, before taking off to the left, his skirts gathered up in one hand so he wouldn't trip, the necklace wound tightly in the other.

_Malik said something about getting the upper hand._ Ryou panted as he ran, before turning into a side street, leaning heavily against the brick wall of a building, head bowed. He had to keep moving. Get to his aunts, plead his case, and ask for protection against the angry pirates. It sounded simple enough.

_I wonder if this is what he had in mind._

* * *

OMG LOOK!

Like, stuff happened! :O

R&R all!


	14. Chapter 14

YAY UPDATE!

And it is rather quickly.

Rather.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

_I must take these stupid things off._

His lungs burning, Ryou slowly regained his balance, standing up of his own accord. He kicked his shoes off, and swayed, supporting himself with one hand on the wall. He felt sick. The hard resolve in his stomach had dissolved, and given way to pure terror.

_What have I done._

Ryou felt as though he were about to cry. He'd run away from Bakura. He'd headed into London alone, with no money, none of his possessions (save the necklace), And only a slim chance that he could find a place to stay. _Was this truly the best idea?_ Swallowing hard, Ryou looked down at his closed fist, catching a glimpse of gold. Taking a deep breath, Ryou leaned against the crumbling brick wall that supported him. _Yes._

_There was no possible way that I could stay there._ Ryou rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. _It was far too dangerous, with Joey skulking around, and Bakura being... Bakura. There is no way that it could have ended well. I would have been killed, I know it. Besides, I can make a new life. My Aunt Anne would extend some charity towards her nephew. _

_I hope._

Ryou squeezed his eyes tightly shut, teeth gritted. His head hurt. He had no regrets about leaving Bakura's ship – he was terrified of the place, and was glad for an escape. What frightened him was the prospect of being found, of being dragged back to Bakura, who would probably kill him for his insolence. _I can see that occurring. He has committed murder for less, as he has reminded me several times..._

_I cannot remain in this place._ Ryou concluded, bending down to pick up his shoes. _I would get spotted, without a doubt._ He pushed his way into the busy street, and made to run again, when a thought stopped him. _The shoes. I must get rid of them. _He supposed that he could have just thrown them, tossed them away to be picked up by a dirty vagrant and scalped for food, but instead, surveyed the crowd around him, just for a second, before springing forward, and gently touching the shoulder of a red-headed girl.

"What?" She turned around, quite snappishly, but stilled when she saw the apparent wealthy woman who had greeted her, who looked quite ruffled.

"Afternoon!" Ryou looked down at her bare feet. "Look. You would like some shoes?" The girls' wide eyes blinked as the gold heels were pushed into her dirty hands, a worn basket hanging off one arm. "Here. You can sell them, or wear them if you wish, they would fit."

"Wh-what?" She was stunned. "I-I..." The state of her bedraggled, brown dress, and knotted thatch of auburn hair proved she'd never owned anything remotely fine in her life. She stared down at the gold heels, hands trembling. "Th-Thank y..." She trailed off when she noticed that the strange lady had gone. "Oh." Eyes darting from side to side, she clutched the gold heels close to her chest, and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, knowing her new shoes could be stolen in a heartbeat.

"Ow!" Ryou gasped as he stepped on a sharp stone, and stumbled a little, but didn't stop, didn't fall. He kept running as fast as his slowly weakening legs could allow him. People turned to stare, and whisper behind hands, but no one stopped him to ask who he was, where he was going, or who was chasing him. Ryou gathered his skirts, which were being dragged in the mud without his heels, in one hand, and pushed the crowd aside with the others, his breaths tearing out in harsh ragged gasps, ducking and dodging. Finally, he had to pause, just for a moment, and catch his breath, his heart thudding in his chest. Ryou bowed his head, a dull pain on his left temple. His arms and legs felt weak, as though they were stuffed with straw._ But then, it must be noted that I never was exemplary at physical activity_.

_What should I do with this?_ Ryou bit his lip as he looked down, and opened his palm, staring at the gold pendant, which glistened with his sweat. An idea came into his little wigged head, and, after turning to make sure no one was looking, he tucked it into his boned bodice, knowing that it was tight and secure enough in there.

_Where am I?_ Ryou let his hands drop to his sides, his long skirts slowly soaking up the mud, He arched his neck, looking up at the buildings around him. He wracked his brains, struggling to place the landmarks that surrounded him, aided by the position of the sun, and the occasional tolling of the bells. _This is a simple task. I turned left off the High Street a short time ago, which would mean I am heading towards the Thames. My Aunt lives in the West End, which means I must take the next left where possible. _Feeling a renewed sense of vigour, Ryou gathered up his superfluous skirts again, and half walked, half ran down the busy street, which had a range of pedestrians, from the scrawniest, most ragged vagrants (Although these were few and far between), to the finest gentlemen, who felt "the sun was just simply too marvellous" to be confined to a carriage, and a number of horse-drawn vehicles clattered past on the cobblestones. Ryou dodged them all, stubbing a bare toe, tearing his outer skirt, and bruising his feet, but he didn't dare stop, the terror of what Bakura could do to him spurring him on.

That is, until he crashed into someone.

Too preoccupied with trying to slip between two carriages while coming up with the energy to keep going, Ryou smashed straight into a small group of gentlemen who had just left a fine-looking perfume shop. The white-haired teen cried out as he fell back, hard onto the cobblestones, his false blonde curls falling all over his face. Ryou groaned weakly, trying to force himself back up, but was sapped almost entirely of all strength.

"Good Lord! William, what did you do?"

"Nothing, I swear! This lady just ran right into me..."

"Miss?" Ryou winced at the hand on his arm. "Are you quite all right? Miss?"

"What in the name of heaven happened to the lady?"

"I know not... She looks simply horrendous."

"Miss?" A pair of hands now, tensed around his arms, coaxing him to sit up. Ryou groaned again tiredly, his head spinning. "Are you not well? Shall I fetch a doctor?"

"N-No thank you." Ryou managed to stumble out feebly. "I-I shall be fine..."

"James, we must hurry or we shall be late..."

"You think I donnot know?"

"You two go on ahead." The man who held Ryou steady barked out. The brown-eyed boy frowned. There was something about his voice that sounded... Familiar.

"You just love to play the hero..."

"... Rescuing the damsel in distress."

"Go on!" Ryou blinked, trying to see, but the hair all over his face made it impossible. _I must look such a fright..._ "I shall deal with this." Ryou heard the man sigh. "Are you at all injured?"

"I-I donnot think so." Ryou mumbled weakly. "Just a little bruised..."

"Do you wish to see a doctor?" Ryou closed his eyes as he felt clean hands graze his face, pushing the blonde curls away and over his shoulders. A little apprehensive, Ryou's eyes fluttered open, and he took his first glimpse at the man who had jumped to his aid.

Ryou's breath caught in his chest as he studied the thin face, with a top of well-brushed chestnut hair, cold blue eyes staring back him. _I know this man._ When their eyes met, it was as though a rock dropped into Ryou's stomach, and a bubble of panic rose in his chest.

_Seto Kaiba._

* * *

"Ya sure she's gonna show?"

"Yep." Joey leaned against the stone wall of the St. Giles church, which encircled a sprawling cemetery. "She hasta pass this way ta get 'ome." Tristan nodded, his hands jammed into his pockets. It was just the pair who were waiting – the others were still back at the pub, waiting until they got their wages at dusk.

"How old is she now?" The brown-haired man leaned over to look at Jounouchi, who bit his lip, looking thoughtful.

"... Fourteen." He finally muttered, before brushing at his hair, pushing the shaggy blonde locks out of his eyes. _I haven't seen her in over a year... I hope she still walks this way..._

"There." Tristan, who had seen her before pointed across the crowd, to a small, tousled hair the colour of autumn leaves. "Quick." Joey broke out in a smile at the sight of the tentative girl, and started pushing his way through the throng of people, spitting out sneers and biting insults at those who tried to push him back.

"Serenity!"

The red-haired girl whirled around at the sound of her name, and stood frozen, eyes wide. Her face broke into a smile, and she ran towards her older brother, arms flung out, a fraying basket dangling off a skinny limb.

"Joey." She had grown since their last meeting, a _lot, _the top of her head grazing Joey's chin. The blonde picked her up easily and whirled her around, beaming.

"'S good ta see ya." Joey muttered, holding his younger sibling tightly. "An' look!" Serenity was beaming as Joey held her at arms length, looking her over. "You're so tall! Look at ya!"

"Am not." Serenity took a step back, and raised her left foot a little, balancing precariously. "Look! A lady just gave 'em to me for no reason."

".. Woa." Joey stared at the golden high heeled shoe on his little sisters' foot. "They're sure pretty."

"I know!" She turned a little circle, red hair flying. "I'm never takin' 'em off now. Ever." Joey grinned, and gave his sister another quick hug.

"Nice shoes." Tristan frowned as he approached the pair. "Joey, look at them."

"Wha? What 'bout them?" An apprehensive look crossed Serenity's face, and she gave the pair a look, as clear as day. _Don't you dare take them away from them._

"Serenity, who gave 'em to you?" Tristan was looking unusually shrewd as he continued to stare at the shoes.

"A lady." Serenity swallowed. "A-A little older'n me... It matched her dress... I didn't steal 'em, Honest!"

"Was she blonde?" Joey whipped his head around to stare at Tristan, realising exactly what he was angling at.

"No." Serenity blinked as Joey bent down to examine her shoes. "Sharp eyes. They look th' same..."

"Sh-She was blonde." Serenity took a step back, confused. "What's going on?"

"I got kicked in the bloody _face_ with those heels by that Frog. You think I wouldn't remember 'em?" Tristan rubbed at his left cheekbone in remembrance of the painful bruise that had only recently faded.

"That bitch." Joey swore, fuming. "I knew 'e wasn't ta be trusted."

"Joey... Tell me what's goin' on!" She demanded, hazelnut eyes wide with confusion. "Who can't you trust?"

"What do we do?" Tristan muttered, shooting Joey a dark look. "This city's huge, we'll never find 'im."

"We'll try." Joey snarled. "Serenity, we gotta go."

"What? Why?" The red-headed girl latched onto her older brothers arm, looking up at the man imploringly. "You just got here! You can't leave me."

"'M not." Joey promised, taking her hand and prising it away from his shirt sleeve. "Ya know that 'girl' who gave ya the shoes?" Serenity nodded weakly. "'Twasn't a girl. It was a boy and we 'ave ta go find him."

"What?" Serenity shook her head, not knowing what was going on. "J-Joey, please... Can't it wait?"

"Na." Joey sighed. "Look, go back 'ome. I'll be there in about an 'our or so. Kay?" Her shoulders slumped with disappointment and sadness, Serenity nodded weakly, her head hanging glumly as Joey and his brown-haired comerade dispersed into the crowd.

"Joey, you're crazy." Tristan sighed. "We won't find 'im. 'Ell be long gone by now."

"Not exactly." Although he couldn't read or write, Joey was a very shrewd character, and could be a strong thinker. It was his street smarts that earned him the position of Bakura's first mate, and his rough disposition and ability to think fast helped him to keep it. "Bakura was' goin to the Royal Exchange, righ'?"

"Right..." Tristan raised an eyebrow, not sure where this was going.

"And Ryou's one of them upper-class folk, Bakura told me. If he was goin' to find any friends or family to help 'im hide, where would 'e go?"

".. West End." Comprehension dawned on Tristans face . "The Manor houses and Mansions there."

"Righ'." Joey nodded. "I'll go now. You find Duke, and maybe Jonas or José. No need to bring 'em all into it. Meet back at the ship 'bout 4." Tristan nodded, and took off in a different direction, battling his way through the crowd. Joey sighed, and craned his head to look across the crowded courtyard. He caught a flash of tangled red hair before it was completely swallowed up in the crowd, and growled in his throat. He was _pissed._ Joey, who had told his sister and Mother that he worked on a 'Merchant Ship', almost never got to see the surviving members of his family. Although he wouldn't tell anyone, Joey missed his sister greatly, and had been looking forward to seeing her for weeks. _I'll definitely make an effort. Even if I have to miss out on a night on the tiles, I'll spend time with her and Ma. I have to._

Joey's lip curled in a snarl. Stupid Ryou. It was all his fault. His stupid escape plan meant that he was missing out on precious time with his beloved sister, and now he had to go traipsing around all over London looking for the little brat. _I hope I find him first. Give me some alone time and-_

_Wait._ He cast his mind back to the night previous, where he had caught Ryou and Malik kissing up on the crows nest. He couldn't think of a better set-up for blackmail if he tried. A cruel smile crept across Joey's face.

_Now I **really** want to find him._

* * *

"I-I am quite all right!"

Ryou's heart thudded in his chest, and he dropped his gaze, looking determinedly down at the muddy cobblestones. _Seto Kaiba._ There was no doubt about it – he had changed so much from the thirteen-year-old that he known a lifetime ago. His parents were rich landowners, and their death put his estate in the hands of a small group of Regents, headed by an associate of Seto's father, Gozabouro, a man Seto never trusted. They knew each other relatively well – Their parents had vast amounts of land in the same Parish, which meant they were constantly meeting at various balls, masques, and banquets. Now he was eighteen, and the estate was his, Ryou supposed that he would have administrators running his fortune in the counties, while he studied at a London University. It was a common story. _This is not good at all... He knows of my fathers banishment, surely... Oh, what can I say to him?_

"Lady... I must take you to a doctor." Seto protested firmly, his gaze fixed on the girl he held in his arms. "You may have broken something."

"I am not injured." Ryou protested weakly, looking away. It was too dangerous. "Just a little knocked about. Please, just help me up and I shall be on my way..."

"Nonsense." The brunette muttered firmly, although he did slowly stand up, holding Ryou with him, and guiding him into a standing position. "I cannot leave a lady in this distressed state, it is against the very morals of a gentleman."

"I do not wish to see a doctor." _Doctors are trained in the study of human anatomy. He would be able to notice in a heartbeat that I am not female. And I cannot afford the delay. I must get to Aunt Anne before I am found._

"Well..." Seto bit his lip, forcing back a sigh. She was certainly difficult. He looked down at the young lady, and frowned. _Maybe she is not as young as I thought_. Her blonde curls were merely a wig, and was starting to slip, exposing a snow-white hairline. Her face as youthful as anything, though. _Perhaps she is a witch. That is why she does not wish to see a doctor._

_That is a stupid thought._ Seto shook his head. She was just a scared young lady who didn't like her hair, there was nothing wrong with that. _But her eyes look so familiar... _

"Can I at least escort you home?" Seto suggested. "Then your Mother or husband can get a doctor to call around."

"My Aunt." Ryou nodded gratefully. "I am most grateful for your courteous offering."

"It is my pleasure." Seto muttered, staring at Ryou's throat. _If she is a female then why does she have an Adams apple... Something is not right here._ "What did you say your name was?"

"I did not." Ryou swallowed, sure Seto noticed his panic. He did. "My name is... Elizabeth." The whitenette stumbled. "Elizabeth Braithwaite." Ryou used his mothers maiden name in his panic, hoping that Seto wouldn't remember it.

"Pleasure to meet you." Seto narrowed his eyes. _Elizabeth Braithwaite. I know that name. _"That is an unusual name." He continued, hoping that Ryou might drop another clue about who he really was. Seto smelled a rat.

"Oh, Hardly." Ryou tried to keep a light tone. "There are many Elizabeth's, and the Braithwaite's are a very extensive family."

"Yes." Seto agreed, his mind going back to his younger, country days, where he would spend sunny afternoons with his Mother in the garden, and winter evenings with her by the fireside. She would always explain to Seto in great detail the scandals, affairs, and workings of the nobility in the local area, constantly rationalizing that it was 'important' information. "But I remember an Elizabeth Braithwaite in my hometown... She was about twenty years older than you, however."

"Oh?" There was a slightly strangled tone in Ryou's voice, which Seto instantly picked up on with a smirk. "What a coincidence."

"Yes." Seto shot Ryou a sideways glance, still supporting him outside the perfume store. "She married a James Cooper, if I remember correctly, and had two children past infancy."

"Really?" A cold feeling started growing in Ryou's stomach, and his heart was pounding worse than ever. To Ryou, it was obvious that Seto knew, and was just setting him up for a gut-busting punchline, but Seto was still trying to put two-and-two together.

"Yes. Their son Ryou would be your age now." Ryou froze in Seto's grasp, and the brunette felt it. Seto narrowed his eyes, and stared at Ryou for a long while. His feminine frame, extraordinarily pale skin, and white hair._ And he had brown eyes. I remember they looked familiar..._

_Ryou._

_No._

"C-Can I please be escorted to my Aunt?" Ryou inquired somewhat plaintively, terrified._ Please, please please, do not do this... Please, God, help me..._

"Your aunt Anne?" Ryou looked up at Seto, and their eyes met. Ryou's lower lip trembled, and the earth reeled beneath his feet. Seto examined Ryou's facial features, now absolutely sure. He'd recognize those girly looks anywhere, and more of his white hair was coming out from under the wig. "It is all right." Ryou blinked as Seto's hands relaxed a little on his arms. "Ryou." The teenager gasped, and with one swift motion, Seto easily managed to pull the blonde wig away from Ryou's head, exposing a pony-tail of soft white hair, which was starting to come loose.

"Seto." Ryou's voice was hoarse, his throat dry. "I-I-I-"

"What are you doing here?" Seto hissed, leaning in closer to Ryou so their conversation wasn't over heard. "Your father-"

"-Is dead." Ryou managed to blurt out, his heart thudding in panic. "He was killed by pirates a week ago."

"Oh..." Seto frowned. "I am so sorry..."

"Seto, they took me." Tears formed in Ryou's eyes, and he clutched at Seto's sleeves, desperation evident in his voice. "They came in the night, and destroyed the whole village. And I-I was drugged and the next thing I knew I was on this ship and..." Ryou's voice broke, and he crumbled, his head bowed as he burst into tears.

"Oh my..." Seto didn't know what to say, completely shocked. It just didn't make any sense. How could this happen? "Ryou, I am so sorry." He repeated, lost for words.

"Help me." Ryou's breath shook in his throat, his hands trembling. "Please... I tried to run away, but I am so terrified that they will find me. I shudder to think what would happen if I am caught. Please, Seto, you must help me."

"Of course." Seto agreed, starting to walk down the street. "But I am not sure what I can do... I do not think people would be exactly happy to see you..."

"I just want to go to my Aunts." Ryou pleaded, tears still leaking from his big brown eyes. "Please, it is all I ask for."

"... I can do that." Seto held onto Ryou's arm, continuing to pace down the road. Ryou trailed along behind him, biting his lip in pain as he struggled to keep up with his bruised feet. "You all right?"

"I-It is just a little hard to walk." Ryou murmured, light with relief that Seto was willing to help him. He was so terrified that he would be turned in, and most likely arrested. "I-I shall be fine."

"Sure?" Ryou nodded, and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in his feet as Seto led him down the street, all too aware of his ragged appearance. "Thank you, Seto. I am very grateful."

"You are welcome." Seto muttered, avoiding the curious looks of passers-by. He paused outside a shop, making Ryou blink.

"Wh-What-"

"I have to get something urgently." It was a shop that sold ribbons. _Ribbons?_ "For my... It does not matter. But this is the only store in London that has the exact shade of mauve, I am told. Do you wish to enter, or are you quite all right to wait? I shant be a moment."

"I can wait." Ryou flashed a small, weak smile. "Do not worry." Seto nodded impassively, and let go of Ryou's wrist to duck inside the shop. Feeling terribly conspicuous, and quite embarrassed of his appearance, Ryou leaned against the stone wall, trying to make himself as small, and out of the way as possible. Exhausted, the whitenette lowered his eyelids for just a moment, a yawn threatening to burst from his mouth-

"_There_ you are!"

Ryou's heart leaped into his throat, and his eyes snapped open. Before he could react, however, a strong, cruel hand found it's way around Ryou's wrist, and the other clapped over his mouth. Joey sneered down at the teenager who he had finally located, and pulled him away quickly, into a narrow abandoned alley that was just a few feet away.

_No!_ Ryou kicked, and struggled against the blonde, who pushed him further into the darkness, but it was futile. His blood boiling, Joey unmercifully pushed Ryou to the ground, where he fell painfully into a puddle of foul-smelling mud and God knew what else.

"G-Go away." Ryou whimpered, backing away from the approaching blonde, terrified, and crushed that it turned so badly for him so quickly. Joey was going to kill him. Joey was really going to kill him, and most likely say that he found him dead. "Help!"

"Shut it." Joey placed a well-aimed kick to Ryou's ribs, earning a cry from the teenager. "You little _bitch_."

"I-I..." Ryou's mouth was dry, and he tried to back away further, but was caught up against a high brick wall. "P-P-Please..."

"I knew you were trouble." Joey's lip was curled into a snarl. "I shouldn't'a picked ya." Ryou stared up at the male, sick with pure fear. "Ya've done nothing but annoy me." Ryou swallowed, and looked around wildly for an escape, but the alley was too small, and Jounouchi would be too quick for him on his bruised feet. It was hopeless. "Causin' a ruckus. And this's no diffr'nt."

"J-J-Joey, please." Ryou's voice trembled. "I-I.. I am so sorry..."

"_Sorry?"_ Joey was infuriated. "Look at what ya've done!" Ryou whimpered, and shrank away, trying to make himself as small as possible. "I should kill ya right now."

"No!" Ryou squeaked, gasping as Joey grabbed at his tied-up hair, using it to pull him half-up "Ow!"

"Instead of enjoin' our time on land, half of the crew has t' run around this city lookin' for _you."_ Ryou whimpered as Joey grabbed his arms, making sure they made eye contact. "I don' know what Bakura sees in ya."

"I-I..." Ryou tried to talk, but blind fear somehow made his voice just fail. He started to hyperventilate, beside himself with terror and worry.

"Oh, and I _know_ about what ya did las' night." Joey muttered, glaring at Ryou.

"W-What-"

"Kissin' Malik!" Joey shook the boy a little for good measure. "C'mon!" Ryou's mouth fell open in shock, and his stomach dropping even further. "If Bakura found out, he'd _kill_ ya."

"Don't tell him!" Ryou yelped pleadingly, shaking under Joey's hold. "Please!"

"Oh?" Joey leaned in. "What's in it for if I don't?" Ryou's lower lip trembled. "Huh?"

"I-I... I... _Please." _ Ryou moaned. He was at the mercy of a madman, and he knew that the chances of him coming out of this unscathed were non-existent. "I-I... I donnot..."

"I know." Ryou cried out as Joey pushed him roughly to his knees. Joey knew that he was going too far, that he had lost control of himself, and that if Bakura knew about what he was about to do his own fate would be sealed, but to him, he'd been pushed too far. He was exasperated with Ryou's insolence, his inability to shut up and do as he was told, his weakness, his defiance and insubordination. Maybe Bakura was too soft on Ryou. Maybe the stupid whore just didn't listen. Either way, Joey thought it as his duty to teach Ryou his place, making sure his lesson was as harsh as possible.

"J-Joey..." Ryou implored, looking up at the blonde. "_Please."_ There was no pity in his face as he grabbed at the younger males' tangled white locks and tugging hard, forcing Ryou to bow his head. "I-I am so sorry..." He whispered, swaying slightly on his knees.

"Ya will be." Joey snarled coldly.

* * *

Eeep...

No one kill mee T.T

Next chapter will be much better, I swears.


	15. Chapter 15

WOW this is late. And long.

So that balances out, no?

Ahehehe...

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

"Get your slimy hands _off_ me."

Tears were in Ryou's eyes as he wrenched his hand out of Joey's grasp, turning away from the blonde as he was pushed into the street. He was shaking madly, his heart thudding in his chest. He still could not believe what he had done... Been forced to do. Self-consciously, the boy swallowed, trying as hard as he could to get rid of the salty taste from his tongue.

"What, I-"

"Don't _touch_ me!" Ryou lost control, and hit Joey with all the strength he could muster, sobbing. "Go _away!"_ The blonde merely raised an eyebrow as he rubbed at his sore arm, watching with mild interest as Ryou sank to his knees, holding his face in his hands.

"Get up." Joey snarled, prodding Ryou's side with his boot. The teenager shook his head, unable to stem his tears. He felt so disgusting. _I am a whore... Oh God..._ "Ryou, get your ass up _now!"_

"_NO!"_ Ryou shouted, his fingers twisted in his hair. "_Leave me alone!"_

"F' fucks sake... Get _up!"_ Joey hauled Ryou to his feet by one arm, scowling deeply. "We're goin'."

"Let go of me." Ryou's voice shook, and fresh tears welled in his wide brown eyes. "Please." Bakura had done worse to Ryou, but he never made him feel this... Disgusting. He just felt so hurt, so used and... Dehumanized. What on earth was inside Joey's head, to make him do that? He didn't even seem fazed that he had traumatized Ryou, simply for the sake of selfish blackmail.

"Jus' shut up." Joey started to march out of the alley, and into the street, Ryou trailing behind him, struggling to keep his footing. "Remember. Anyone asks, ya got mugged, right?"

"Y-Yes." Ryou choked out, his skin crawling from Joey's touch. His knees were weak, and it hurt to walk, his bruised feet aching worse than ever. He tried to slow his pace, but Joey merely growled, and tugged on his arm harder, earning a soft cry from the boy.

"C'mon." There was a smile on Joey's face that Ryou _really_ didn't like. "Let's go find Bakura."

* * *

"He might be found."

"No, he wont. Fuck!"

Malik winced as Bakura kicked at a crate, which skidded a little across the deck. "How stupid am I? Why did I just let him go around unguarded like that? What kind of fool am I?"

"Don't say that." Malik pleaded, standing perfectly still, wringing his hands. "This isn't your fault."

"I know it's not." Bakura spat, obviously extremely angry. "It's _his._ When I get my hands on him. I'll _kill_ him for this insolence! How dare he flee from me!"

"Bakura-"

"What is so evil and wrong about me? I have been so goddamned nice to him! I've never treated anyone as nicely as him! What the hell did he do this for?"

"Bakura-"

"You know, I hope for his sake, the crew don't find Ryou. Because if he comes near me, he'll meet a fate worse than death, I can _assure_ you-"

"Bakura!" Malik grabbed at the captains shirt, in a bid to cut him off. "Stop it, please! Listen to yourself! Are you really going to _kill_ Ryou for this?"

"He's no good to me if he attempts escape whenever my back is turned!" Bakura shot back, wrenching himself free of Malik. "And don't _touch_ me!" Malik sighed, wanting to hit Bakura. However, he had learned through painful experience that when Bakura was very angry, he tended to get high and mighty, constantly reminding Malik that he was still a slave and slaves don't talk out of turn, let alone question their masters.

"Just think about this rationally-"

"_Rationally?"_ Bakura shouted. "How can I! He tried to run away! Does that _not_ show what he really thinks of me?"

"Bakura-"

"No." Malik bit his lip as the pirate captain pushed past him, crossing the deck of his ship. "I'm going to salvage what's left of this deal with Keith. Minus one necklace." Bakura's lip curled in a snarl.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No." Malik watched as Bakura picked up the leather case, and started making his way down the gangplank. "Wait here!" He called out, not looking back. "If they bring him back, send someone to find me."

"Got it." Malik murmured weakly, before sitting down on a crate, his head sinking to his hands. _Ryou... What have you done? Why? I hope you got away... I hope Joey and the rest don't find you. Even if it means I'll never see you again. Small price to pay for your safety after all._ He brushed his hair out of his eyes, before standing up, and walking over to the railing. He rested his hands on the painted wood, lavender eyes scanning the landscape, looking out over the Thames. _What's so sad is that I think Bakura genuinely liked him. He actually cared, and that's saying a lot... God Ryou, this has to be the stupidest think you've ever done... Or the cleverest. If you get away._

Malik closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. It was nice, more... Sweet, to breathe air that wasn't tangy with the salty aroma of the sea. He felt frazzled, and upset to say the least, and tried to calm himself with deep breaths, listening to the ambient noises around him.

It didn't work.

The Egyptian opened his eyes, and slumped his shoulders, a knot still in his stomach. He crossed the deck again, this time heading towards Bakura's room, that he shared with Ryou. The brass handle gave easily under his pressure, and he pushed open the door, and stepped inside. It was pretty much the same as it had always been, with clothes littering the place, the bedcovers rumpled, and stacks of papers shuffled untidily. However, a new, large book caught his eye on Ryou's nightstand. Malik frowned, and walked over to it, staring down at the cover. He wished he could read. The blonde turned the cover, and stared at what lay on the flyleaf inside. There were four tiny paintings, done on canvas, which had obviously been torn from their frames, the edges fraying. Curious, Malik picked one up, lifting it to examine the artwork closely.

It was Ryou. A younger Ryou, arm in arm with a girl who looked almost exactly like him, albeit younger. _His sister_. The Egyptian set the little painting back down. It was clearly all Ryou had left of his family – if he were to return. But nevertheless, Malik, who had never been the subject of a painting in his life, was jealous. He would have loved to have art, even a small piece, with his sister and brothers. _This way, Amane is alive in more than her brothers' memory._

It was a dull _thud_ that broke Malik out of his thoughts. He gasped, and pushed the Bible shut, before scampering back onto the deck, a little breathless as he closed the door behind him.

"Malik." The blonde's eyes widened at the sight of Joey, and they were positively huge when he registered the shivering teenager he was clamped on to. "Found 'im."

"Oh God." Malik's hands flew to his mouth as Joey released his hold on the whitenette, who sank to his knees, sobbing weakly. "What _happened?"_

"Got mugged." Joey seemed absolutely unperturbed, his voice flat as Malik rushed to Ryou's side. "Probably worse, if ya get me." Malik shot Joey a look, and then returned his gaze to Ryou, who couldn't look him in the eye.

"Ryou... Are you all right?" He wrapped one arm around Ryou's shoulders, and held his arm with the other, helping him stand. Ryou buried his face into Malik's shoulder, appreciating the scant comfort, and bursting into fresh tears.

"Where's Bakura?" Joey asked somewhat coldly, catching a glimpse to the sun in an attempt to calculate the time.

"Went to see Keith." Malik replied, before turning his attention back to the poor crying boy in his arms. "Come on..."

"'M off then!" Joey was already on the gangplank. Malik didn't give him a second look as he walked Ryou into his room, and set him down on the edge of the bed. Ryou sniffed weakly, and tried to stem the flow of tears, largely failing.

"Ryou..." Malik started, still unable to believe this was really happening. "What... What _happened?_"

"I-I..." Ryou buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. "I-I c-ca-can't..."

"All right." Malik wrapped an arm around Ryou's thin shoulders, messy white hair tickling his nose. He looked a mess, his dress torn almost to ribbons, and covered in awful smelling muck. It look as though he'd been dragged through a cesspool. _What's Bakura going to say to this... _Joey was right. Ryou was beside himself. _What happened to you?_

Malik didn't know how long he sat on the edge of the bed, holding Ryou as he sobbed. The white-haired boy showed no signs of letting up, although sometimes he phased onto a muted sniffle, the memory of Joey would just come flooding back and he'd burst into fresh tears, clinging tightly to the only person he thought he could trust, traumatized, and still shaking with fear, and also outraged that Joey could have the cruelty to _do_ that to him. It was beyond sick and perverted. Bakura had done worse to him, but he was much less crude about it, and offered comfort, as opposed to Joey, who just bullied him. Slowly, however, Ryou's tears dissipated, and gave way to long, shuddering sighs.

"You have to get out of these clothes, okay?" Malik lightly touched the soft golden dress. Ryou was still for a moment, staring into space, but eventually, he nodded weakly, and wiped at his eyes. "Good." Malik slowly stood up, and held out his hands, which Ryou accepted gratefully. He wavered slightly on his feet, but was able to stand still, his hands shaking. He felt sick with himself. _I let myself... Ugh_. "Can you turn around so I can get the back?"

"U-Um, certainly." Ryou nodded, his hands clasped together as he turned around. His skin tingled oddly when Malik touched it, like an electric shock – and it was not the good kind. Malik slowly started to pull the silk ribbons, which held the dress together, out, and Ryou sighed as a little of the intense pressure put on his ribs was slackened.

"Step out of it." Malik's hands shook a little as Ryou obeyed, and turned a little, now wearing nothing but the preposterous undergarments, which were all still a clean shade of white. He looked beautiful._ Don't think that, damnit..._

"Can you get the back of this corset, too?" Ryou inquired softly, his voice still shaking. He wanted _out_ of the dress, and into bed, soft, warm bed where he could pull the covers over his head and pretend that the whole ugly incident never happened...

"_You._"

The hairs on the back of Ryou's neck stood on end. He spun around with a short cry, hands flying to his mouth. Before Malik had a chance to react, Bakura positively flew at Ryou, and before the Egyptian could blink, Bakura had Ryou on the ground, arms wrapped around his throat.

"_Bakura!"_ Malik pulled at the mans' shoulders, trying to pull him off Ryou, who had his hands wrapped around Bakura's wrists, trying and failing to get Bakura's hands off his throat, his head spinning. "Let him _go!"_

_"_Never." Bakura seethed, tightening his grip around Ryou's throat. "You're a selfish _bitch_ Ryou. You deserve to _die."_ He was past any point of control as he cut off the last of Ryou's air, the teenager writhing desperately beneath him, clawing at his arms. He couldn't hear Ryou's choked gasps, or Malik's screaming for mercy in his ear. He heard nothing but an odd rushing, and the pounding of his heart, thudding in his ribcage in his anger, positively deafening.

"_BAKURA!"_ Malik screamed, pulling so hard at Bakura's arms, trying to get the man to release his grasp on Ryou. The whitenette's nails raked the floorboards, his back arched. His lungs burned, his head swam, his vision was darkening... "_STOP!"_

Malik hit Bakura.

He was so terrified, and in shock, that he didn't know what else to do. He'd spun around so he was facing Bakura, and smacked him with all the strength he could summon. Bakura snapped out of his almost hypnotised state, and slowly raised a shaking hand to his face. Lungs filling with air once more, Ryou relaxed on the floorboards, taking in deep, shuddering gasps of air, sobbing. Malik stared at Bakura wide-eyed, his own heart thudding, terrified.

"How _dare_ you." Bakura's voice rumbled low in his throat, quivering in his rage. "You-"

"No!" Malik yelped, and tried his hardest to escape, but before he could move, Bakura lunged, and, grabbing a handful of tangled golden locks, twisted his head back uncomfortably, fixing his burning gaze on Malik.

"How _dare_ you strike your goddamn master." Malik cried out as Bakura pulled down harder on his hair, his neck starting to strain uncomfortably. Ryou finally found the strength to get to his hands and knees, where he crawled weakly into the corner, still choking and sobbing, rubbing his aching neck. "No one else would _ever_ have the stupidity to-"

"You were going to _kill _him!" Malik elbowed Bakura in the stomach, hard. Shocked and winded, the pirate captain let go of his hair. Malik quickly grabbed hold of Bakura's wrists, forcing the man to look him in the eye. "Bakura, calm _down."_

"Get _off_ me." Bakura spat, wrenching his hands free. "You think you have the _right-"_

_"_No!" Malik gasped, cringing away from Bakura, expecting another blow. "Bakura, I'm sorry!" Ryou buried his face in his hands, trying to block out the scene that unfolded before him. A loud_ thump_ made the whitenette start, however, and look up. Bakura had Marik on the ground, one hand on his shoulder, the other reared back, ready to punch Malik.

"_No!"_ Ryou sprang up, and took a couple of shaky steps, before collapsing onto his hands and knees. Bakura froze, and stared, wide-eyed at Ryou, who returned the gaze imploringly. "This mess is my entire fault... Do not punish Malik for this!" Ryou pleaded, lower lip trembling. "I beg of you." Bakura kept his eyes locked with Ryou, struggling to read the expression hidden in his wide chocolate depths. "I-I am so sorry..." Ryou sat back on his rear, hands clasped in his lap. "_Please_..." Almost hyperventilating in terror, Malik closed his eyes, tightly, turning his face away from Bakura, expecting a blow. On the contrary, however, Bakura relieved the pressure he had on the blonde's shoulder. Malik didn't move, and Ryou gulped, rubbing at his nose.

"You're comin' with me." Ryou's eyes widened as Bakura stood up, and grabbed Maliks' arm roughly, dragging him into a standing position.

"Wh-What?" Malik gasped as Bakura started walking quickly towards the door, staring desperately at Ryou. "Bakura-"

"Shut it." Bakura didn't look behind as he opened the large door that led onto the main deck, pushing Malik out before stepping over the threshold himself, and closed the door behind himself. He locked the door, sliding the large, heavy deadlock across, before finally letting Malik go, who rubbed at his wrist, giving Bakura an accusing look.

"Bakura, I-"

"Don't _talk _to me!" Bakura rounded on Malik, his hands shaking. "I am still _so_ angry at you! What is wrong with you? What gave you the _gall_ to speak to me like that! To hit out at me!"

"You were hurting Ryou!" Malik shot back, lavender eyes filling with tears. "Do you think I would just stand by and let that happen? He doesn't deserve it, Bakura!"

"He ran away from me." Bakura seethed, grabbing at Malik's shoulders. The blonde winced. "He _stole_ from me and he ran. How is that not an act of disobedience against me? How is does that _not_ warrant punishment?"

"He doesn't deserve to die!" Malik placed his hands on Bakura's own, feeling the pale skin beneath him tremble.

"I've killed some for much less." Bakura growled. "You know this. Why are you standing up for someone who deserves what they are getting?"

"He _doesn't!_" Malik blurted out. "Didn't you notice?" Bakura frowned, and paused.

"Notice what?" His hands tensed on Maliks' shoulders, and the Egyptian fought back the urge to wince. "What?"

"How distraught he was before you even came in? How quickly he collapsed? The state of his clothes? Bakura, he was attacked before Joey found him!" Bakura froze, eyes widening a little before he caught himself, and resumed his normal frowning expression.

"What do you mean." Bakura growled, narrowing his eyes a little. Malik felt like tearing his own hair out. _Surely he doesn't mean..._

"Well, ever since he's been found, Ryou keeps wiping at his mouth." Bakura's hands clenched into fists. "You tell me what happened."

"Who did this." Bakura spat, his voice shaking in anger. Malik shrugged weakly, uselessly.

"We don't know, Bakura." He sighed, clearly upset himself. "Joey said that he just found Ryou by himself. Whoever attacked him must have taken the necklace, gone for him, and split. London's too big. We'll never find him."

"Fuck." Bakura turned away, his nails digging into his palms. "_Fuck_."

"Bakura, it's okay." Malik tried to console the captain. "Ryou's okay, he-"

"No, it's _not!_" Bakura whirled around, eyes blazing. "How can you say that? How the _fuck_ can you say that?"

"I just wanted to make you feel better!" Malik shot back, his voice just as loud. "Christ, I'm sorry!"

"Don't you yell at me!" Bakura sounded like a scolding parent, but Malik backed down, knowing the serious danger behind those words. "Look, just butt out! What I feel about Ryou is none of your business!"

"I never mentioned Ryou..." Malik blinked. "Bakura, I'm not stupid, though. I know you care about him."

"Don't." Bakura's lip curled. "I can find a replacement for him in a heartbeat. Don't talk the boy up."

"Bakura, when he ran away, you were more upset that he abandoned your company than about the necklace. I'm not stupid. It's okay to care. Ryou's the sweetest, kindest kid I've ever met-"

"I _don't_." Bakura cut Malik off. "I'm not that weak. What the hell do you take me for?"

"Love isn't a weakness, I-"

"Malik!"

The blonde gasped as Bakura rounded on him, and cringed away, diverting his eyes. The man glared at Malik for a long moment, before standing back.

"Leave me alone." Malik blinked as Bakura reached into his pocket, and withdrew a handful of copper. He pushed it all into the teens' hands without looking at the value. "Just... Just bugger off, all right?"

"B-Bakura, I never meant to offend you-"

"Mailik, go away!" Bakura didn't mean to yell, he wasn't as angry at Malik as he was making out to be, but he was just aggravated, more than anything. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to think. _I need a drink._ Bakura turned, and crossed the deck, tightly clutching the carved wooden railing. Malik had left, judging by the sounds of his fading footsteps, and Ryou was locked securely in the bedchamber. Bakura gazed out towards the sky, and the position of the sun, which hung low in the sky. It was almost sunset, and people would be expecting payment. _Ugh. I hate pay days. Guess I have to sort all these wages out..._ Glad for the distraction, Bakura walked over to his nearly-empty leather case, which was set on the deck, and picked it up, heading back across the deck, pushing open the loosely-hinged door which was to lead below. He'd figure out everything downstairs, where it was quieter, and Bakura could think better. _I hope Devlin wrote a list of the food he needed... And Joey's been complaining about the rotting ropes for weeks... And we're out of gunpowder and cannons... and then to work out fair **wages**..._ Bakura shook his head.

Thankfully, Ryou and Malik were going to be out of his head for a while.

* * *

Bakura groaned, resting his forehead against the rough-hewn table for a moment. The candles flickered at the movement, light dancing over the stacks of coins. His head hurt. A long sigh escaped Bakura's lips as he raised his head again, putting quill to parchment once more. He was trying to work out how much he could actually afford to _pay_ his workers, once the maintenance costs, food and water, and his own considerably inflated cut had been taken out. It was tedious work, going through crumpled, crudely scrawled notes that Joey had written him on what needed updating and how much it was going to cost, Devlins' list of ingredients he would need for the next month, and a list of his crew (because he commonly forgot someone, much to their displeasure) and how much they deserved to be paid.

And, despite how much he tried not to, the thought of Malik and Ryou just kept coming back to him.

Ryou had been hurt. Badly. Someone had attacked him, to the point where he was inconsolable, and in his rage, Bakura had just made it so much worse. _I tried to kill him._ Something stung in his chest. _I was so angry at him, I tried to kill him. What if I did? What if Malik hadn't pulled me back? I would have choked him to death. God, I've killed before, lots, but not someone so innocent..._

_Innocent. Feh. He tried to run away from me. He stole and tried to escape. That isn't innocence. It's theft. It's disloyalty. It's..._

_... Desperation._ Bakura sighed, and rested his head in his hands, elbows propped on the table. _God, why would he want to be around me? Look what I do to him. I've messed him up for life. I essentially raped him, more than once, and then played games with his mind. To him._

_I'm second-guessing myself. I've never had a problem with this before. Well, I've done some things that I've regretted, to a few of them, in a fit of anger, but I haven't felt this... guilty. Not since I drove that boy to suicide a year back. God, I still feel like shit for that. I don't mean to push myself too far like this. I mean, fuck, I understand what the kid was going through. I went through something similar. So why am I still angry and... Hurt over it?_

_Maybe I need to tell him that. That can't hurt, can it? But I can't get emotionally intimate with the boy. I'm not going through that again. I don't fucking know..._

_I'll talk to him tonight._ Bakura lifted his head from his hands, resolutely. _Try and patch things up, make him feel better. God, I don't know. After this. I need to concentrate. If the crew don't get paid I'll have a frigging mutiny on my hands. Well, maybe not that bad, but they'll be pretty pissed. Okay, so Joey reckons that half a shilling will cover enough paint for the railings Malik couldn't finish, and the main doors, and he wanted to look at getting some new water casks that **aren't**_ _filled with holes this time..._

Bakura tried his absolute hardest to drive Ryou from his mind.

* * *

Ryou slowly turned a wrinkled page of the bible, eyes scanning over the tiny black printed lettering. He'd propped all of the pillows up behind him on the bed, and sat as close to the edge as he could, to get the best light as he could from the flickering candle, the heavy old Bible on his lap. He'd never really been one for actually _reading_ the bible itself, but for as long as he could remember, Ryou had been a voracious reader, devouring every piece of literature that he could lay his hands on, from Classical Epic poems, to old Germanic Myths, to Shakespeare, to current poets such as Donne and Herbet.Even when he was exiled to the tiny fishing village, Ryou still managed to get his hands on books and pamphlets, and indeed had quite a collection that he often leafed through. But ever since he had forcibly boarded the pirate ship, Ryou hadn't laid his eyes on a single written word. He'd opened the bible seeking comfort – not in the words printed on the page, but just the simple fact that they were _there_. He at least still had a means to read. Ryou winced as his stomach rumbled again, protesting at the lack of any meal since breakfast, trying his hardest to ignore the dull, hollow feeling beneath his ribs.

The door opened.

Ryou jumped, and looked up in fright, chocolate eyes wide with shock. He couldn't rid the whimper from his voice as he noticed it was Bakura that pushed the door shut behind him, staring evenly at Ryou. The white-haired boy gulped, and pulled the book up a little higher burying his nose in the page, trying to make himself seem as small as possible. Bakura spoke not a word as he perched on the edge of his side of the large bed, and unlaced his boots. No longer reading, Ryou's hands tensed on the hefty tome, his heart thudding in his chest, wondering what Bakura's next move would be. The pirate stood up to pull off his breeches, and his coat followed. Ryou drew in a long breath as Bakura threw the rest of his clothes to the floor, still not looking at the younger male. Ryou gave Bakura darting glances out of the corner of his eye, unsure of what Bakura was going to do. His throat ached a little, and Ryou self-consciously rubbed the bruised skin, sure that Bakura had seen. He had.

Bakura pulled on a nightshirt, much to Ryou's surprise, before climbing onto the bed. The whitenette made no more pretence of reading as Bakura rolled over, flopping onto his back, and starting at the shifting patterns the flickering candle made on the ceiling. Because he had no pillow, Bakura folded his arms behind his head, still not even casting a glance in Ryou's direction. Uncomfortable silence stretched between them, for several minutes. Ryou finally set down the book, turning the cover to a close, and set it down on the floor beside the bed. He sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, hands folded in his lap.

"I had a very rich childhood." Ryou blinked as Bakura's low voice filled the air, and sat up a little straighter, looking at him, confused. "My father was a rich landowner in the localities, he owned a mass of land that had been in his bloodline since the reign of Henry VI. He was a Justice of the Peace, and had more land than he knew what to do with." Ryou sat perfectly still on the bed beside Bakura, staring at the man as he spoke. "But he became greedy, and wanted more. It started when I was very young, about three or four... He bought a second house, near London, and spent about nine months of the year there. He was determined that he was going to be titled, and earn a place in the court. He spent so much money on clothes and jewels, keeping up a fine appearance so he could be noticed. James was the king at the time, and you know his Court... It was all drinking and parties. I attended them at times. By now I was about twelve, and my father set about putting me in an expensive school. He had this mad idea that it was there where I could befriend other children, and he could work his way in from there. He became one of those hangers-on, the kind of person who attached themselves to someone of wealth, in an attempt to gain some of their responsibility and glory for doing their dirty work. Good old patronage, huh?" Bakura sighed deeply. He didn't expect an answer.

"Soon, the money started running out. Of course, rather than be thrifty and stop splashing about hundreds like it was nothing, he spent more. He started having to sell off his land to cover his arrears. Not that he told anyone, of course. He tried to hide it from my mother and I, but I saw the letters... By the time I was fourteen, we were almost entirely bankrupt. It killed my mother, the stress. She got ill, pneumonia, I think, and gave out after just a few days. My father, he ran around all of his 'friends', trying to find charity. He said that he was so ashamed, yet he _wouldn't stop spending money_. He didn't even have any to spend at that point, he just borrowed, without bounds. That wealth had belonged in our family for over two hundred years, and he just... Frittered it away, on nothing. He was owing money-lenders thousands, and eventually, they came knocking at our door. By now, we weren't even living in a nice house. It was just a few rooms, nicer than the commons, but it was still embarrassing. It had gotten to the point where the men that were owed by my father reported it to the authorities... They sent a Guard around to our house."

"What happened?" Ryou was wide-eyed, utterly compelled by Bakura's story. The man raised an eyebrow at the interruption, and continued, a look on his face that Ryou couldn't decipher.

"They said to pay off my fathers debt, he must find work immediately, and I was to be enlisted in the army." Bakura's voice caught, but he swallowed it down. "I was still only fourteen... Most of the men that fight in the army are killed, and although it was peacetime then, there was still no way in hell that I was going to do it. It was dusk, I remember, and they said I would be going with them in the morning." Bakura paused for a moment, before taking a long breath. "I was terrified. And angry. So angry at my father, who had disrupted my security in so many ways."

"What did you do?" Ryou breathed, sitting up straight and facing Bakura, who still refused to shift his gaze from the ceiling.

"I ran away." Bakura closed his eyes for a moment. "It was my only choice. I knew what would happen to me if I was found, I would more than likely be hung. But there was no way I was going to serve in an army to help pay off my fathers debt. But it was hard. I was fourteen, still a child. My name was worthless. I had no money, nothing to my name but trinkets that my father was yet to pawn. My mothers most precious jewellery, a portrait, and some other stuff I actually ended up selling..." The man sighed, caught up in his own memory. "I left in the night, and by morning was out of the city. I walked on foot to Dover... It felt like the journey was endless. More often that not, I had to steal to get a meal, or a new pair of shoes when the others were worn to pieces. I was always hungry, and tired, and achy... When I got to Dover and the sea ports, I felt like I could just lay down and die, I was so worn out. My plan was to earn a passage on a merchant ship to France or Spain, where I could start anew, without any English threat bearing down on me. But no one wanted to hire a fourteen-year-old who looked so weak he could barely lift a bundle of sticks. I was tempted to give myself up to a church, but my stupid pride and dignity wouldn't let me. It was three days of sleeping in alleys and scrounging from pig scraps before a ship felt sorry enough for me to take me in... This ship."

"Really?" Bakura nodded.

"Yeah... I asked him, the old captain, why a couple of years later. Apparently I had this 'spark' in me that he liked, and wanted to encourage. But I digress." Ryou blinked, as Bakura sat up, and looked Ryou straight in the eye. "Do you understand what I just told you?"

"N-Not really, sorry..." Ryou was confused. Why did Bakura just spill out his past to Ryou? And _what_ a past it was...

"Ryou, I was just like you. I had the wealth, the family, the clothes, the education... I had the best of everything, no exceptions. Then, my fortunes changed, and I hit rock bottom. I had times where I just didn't want to go on anymore. I felt like life had nothing for me. I didn't understand why God had decided to make my life such a misery. And I would have given anything, anything in the world, to get my old life back. The security, and peace, and happiness. Just like you." Ryou took in a long breath, his heart thudding in his chest. "And I can't hate you for doing your best to get your old life back. Because I would have done the exact same thing myself. I would have betrayed anyone to be able to get it all back. But Ryou, you know what?"

"What?" Ryou asked, his voice quivering slightly. Bakura's dark eyes looked into his own, shadowed by the candlelight.

"When I look at myself now, I'm happy. I have plenty of money. I have good friends. I have freedom, I have skill. I have a massive ship that's all mine. People know and fear my name. And that is better than anything I could have had as a nobleman who lived in the counties." Bakura rested a hand over Ryou's, who looked down for a moment, and then back up to Bakura, who looked surprisingly earnest. "And I know you will to. It's not _freedom_, being a gentlemen. You have to dress, walk, talk, act, look, _live_, by such strict guidelines. Where's the individuality? Where's the ability to say "no, I actually feel like doing _this?_" You don't have it. All you would do, Ryou, is lead a shallow, empty life, where you would spend every waking moment trying to look good for everyone else. This freedom is better, if you embrace it."

"... You have done a lot of thinking, haven't you." Ryou murmured, looking down at their clasped hands. Bakura nodded, movement Ryou caught out of the corner of his eye. "You are ... Right. In part." He added, not giving Bakura the satisfaction right away. "I do yearn for my old life. I do not think anything will change that. It is too ingrained in my mind, something I grew up with."

"Of course." Ryou watched as Bakura snagged a pillow. "I understand that. I just thought that you should hear what I have to say. It's not easy, going on and on like that, you know."

"I know." Bakura blinked as Ryou squeezed tightly on his hand. "I appreciate it. I do." He lay back down on the mattress, staring up at the flickering ceiling. "I just... It is still so hard..."

"You wish that you were with your aunt and uncle." Bakura said flatly, tearing his hand from Ryou's, and rolling over onto his side, staring at the wall.

"B-Bakura..." Ryou pleaded. "You... You just said that you would have done the same in my position! You cannot be such a hypocrite, can you?"

"... Maybe." Bakura muttered, his teeth gritted. The truth was, he was... Hurt. Hurt that Ryou had chosen to reject his company. _Shit, Malik was right._ He didn't care about the gold. He cared that Ryou hated him so much he wanted to run away.

"Please do not be angry..." Ryou begged, his voice quivering. "I-I could not bear it-"

"- Do you hate me?" Bakura cut Ryou off abruptly, and rolled over in bed. Ryou blinked, wide eyes staring at him, taken aback by the question.

"I-"

"- Do you?" Bakura propped himself up one elbow, surveying Ryou intently. The whitenette bit his lip, obviously looking deep in thought about the question.

"... No." Ryou finally mumbled, unable to look Bakura in the eye. "I do not hate you. I should, but I do not. You do some things that make me upset, and angry, but I do not hate you for them."

"... Why not?" Bakura couldn't help himself. "I would, if I was in your situation."

"Well..." Ryou looked conflicted, like he desperately wanted to speak his mind, yet at the same time, was terrified of the consequences. "I... I guess I am just a better person than that." He finished in a stumbled rush, his face flushing, steeling himself for a blow.

"... Brave." Bakura muttered, sitting up. Ryou pulled the blankets up to his nose, trembling. "I'm not going to hurt you, idiot." Ryou was still for a moment more, then visibly relaxed, still staring up at Bakura with large brown eyes. "Sit up."

"Wh-Why?" Ryou asked softly, keeping the blankets pulled up as high as he could. Obviously irritated, Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Because I said so. Come on." Ryou gulped, but slowly obeyed, pushing the blankets down to his waist, and pushing himself into a sitting position. "Besides, it would be harder to do this."

"Wh- Mph!" Ryou's eyes snapped open to their fullest extent as Bakura cupped the back of his head, and placed his lips against Ryou's. His other hand palmed the side of Ryou's face, so he was effectively cradling Ryou's head in his hands as he kissed him. Ryou's arms froze at his sides, and his first instinct was to push Bakura away, but he stilled when he realised that Bakura's kiss was tender, and he obviously wasn't going to go any further. Ryou's hands relaxed, and not really knowing what to do with them, drifted down to Bakura's legs, where he attempted to balance himself, his head spinning.

"Wh-Wha..." Ryou gasped as Bakura pulled away, clearly regretfully, his hands remaining where they were for a second, before drifting away.

"I felt like it." Bakura shrugged, lying back down on the bed. "Go to sleep. You've had a long day."

"A-All right." Ryou leaned over to blow out the candle, and then slowly got back down onto the mattress, pulling the blankets back up over himself. Both of them were silent for a long while, lost in their own thoughts. Bakura was still trying to calm himself down and continue to be functioning rationally, while Ryou was failing miserably at forcing the memory of Joey's sexual abuse from his head.

"... Are you all right?" Bakura asked the darkness, after hearing Ryou sniff once or twice. He rested a hand on Ryou's side, noticing how... Tense he was, and not just because he was being touched.

"... No." Ryou's voice was clearly thick with tears. Bakura sighed deeply, and, his heart being tugged at, leaned over to wrap his arms around Ryou in a hug. It was a small token of comfort, something that could never repair the damage Joey had inflicted on his fragile psyche, but Ryou appreciated it. A lot. Bakura wormed his way through the blankets, so he was close enough for their bodies to touch. He rested his nose against the back of Ryou's head, tightening his grip around Ryou's skinny frame.

"Feeling any better?" Bakura asked, muttering the words low in Ryou's ear. Ryou scooted back a little, so their bodies were closer than ever, pulling the blankets back up as high as he could. "Ryou?"

He didn't answer, but his hands clenched over Bakura's own, and the way he relaxed into him, spoke volumes.

* * *

Awwh... Semi-fluff! And some character development!

And stuff... Yeah.

R&R?


	16. Chapter 16

Here we go... after how long?

Man, I feel like shit for this, don't worry -sigh-

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOZING.

* * *

"Rise and shine."

Ryou's eyes cracked open, and he struggled to focus on the pair of eyes that hovered just a few inches from his own. "Morning time."

"No..." Ryou mumbled, rolling over, and burying his face into his feather pillow. "Sleep."

"What?" Bakura stood up, hands on his hips. "C'mon. You've slept a good nine hours. Unless you want to stay here by yourself while I go shopping in London-"

"I'm up!" Ryou sat straight up in bed, the pillow pushed away. A feather was on his head. Bakura chuckled, and picked it out of Ryou's messy hair, earning a scowl from the teen.

"All right. Get your clothes on. I have to try and track down the rest of my crew." Ryou nodded, and slowly climbed out of bed, forcing down a yawn. "I'll get you some shoes, too."

"Really?" Ryou looked up hopefully, and then down at his bare feet, which were still discoloured. "I would appreciate that." Ryou pulled on his trousers, which he slid on under his nightshirt, and then pulled it over his head, grabbing at his shirt.

"You don't need much." Bakura muttered as he pushed Ryou in the small of the back. Ryou squeaked as he was rushed out of the room, and onto the main deck of the ship.

"Well... I... I am also quite hungry." Ryou admitted. Bakura paused, and regarded the teen with a solemn look. "What?"

"What... Ryou, did you eat at all yesterday?" Ryou shook his head, and his stomach gave a gurgle, as to reiterate his point. Bakura groaned, and rubbed at his eyes. "Shit. I'll get a pork pie or something, okay?"

"Thank you." Ryou kept his eyes averted, and shoved his hands in his pockets. He still felt on extremely shaky ground with Bakura. The memory of Bakura trying to strangle him the night before was painfully fresh in his mind. And, although he knew that he shouldn't really, Ryou felt so... guilty. Bakura had managed to make him feel bad for trying to run away, despite sympathising with the boy and even apologizing himself. "I suppose that I am not wearing the dress?"

"Smart arse." Bakura smirked, cuffing Ryou lightly about the ears. "I doubt any of my crew are up around the High Streets. We won't be needing any disguises to fit in there." Ryou nodded obediently, and followed Bakura as he made his way down the gang plank, and jumped lightly onto the docks.

"What time is it?" Ryou asked, looking up to Bakura as he started to lead the way along the crowded docks, weaving his way through the crowd.

"'bout nine." Bakura shrugged, turning his way onto the street. Ryou bit his lip, and looked around himself, apprehension rising in his chest. He was regarded so _differently_ in his ragged clothes, pushed aside without a moments thought, regarded with a dark look by an elder man if he accidentally walked in front of him, and occasionally stepped on. "I would like to be gone by midday, but it depends on how hungover the crew is..."

"Why? Was last night a special occasion?" Ryou inquired, not understanding.

"If by pay day you mean special, then yeah." He shrugged. "They've got nothing else to spend it on until we dock in Spain in six weeks. By then they'll have worked up a new lot of wages. Might as well spend it now on some London night life."

"... Oh." Ryou followed as Bakura picked up his pace, picking his way through the crowds. "Where... Where is Malik?" Ryou had to ask, the question was burning inside him. Something in Bakura tensed, and he stood very still for a moment.

"I don't know." The captain admitted quietly. "I got pissed at him and kicked him out."

"What-"

"Not forever!" Bakura cut Ryou off before he couldn't continue. "I'm not that idiotic. I was just really steamed last night and needed my space, before I did something stupid."

"... Oh." Ryou finally nodded, and followed as Bakura picked up his brisk pace again. "I... Bakura, I am so sorry for running. I truly am."

"I know." Bakura muttered, not looking at the white-haired boy. "Kid, I thought I explained that I knew where you were coming from."

"I know that." Ryou agreed with the captain. "But you never... I do not know."

"Look, how about we just forget it ever happened at all, hm?" Bakura turned his head to look at the boy. Ryou nodded gratefully, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Thank you." He mumbled quietly, his eyes lowered to the ground.

"Good." Bakura muttered, grabbing at Ryou's wrist, and surging forward. Ryou gasped, and cried out, eyes widening, but he complied, trying to keep his footing with quickly aching feet. They continued on in silence, Bakura not uttering a word, Ryou being too scared to, keeping his eyes locked on the ground, until Bakura finally slowed a little, and released his grip on Ryou's arm. The teenager took a step back, and rubbed at his wrist, looking around himself in curiosity.

"Wh-Where are we?" He stared at Bakura, who had his hands in his pockets.

"St. Giles." The captain shrugged, turning away from Ryou, and walking again. "Joey's little sister lives in the area. He would have told her where he was going. Everyone will be rounded back up by lunchtime and we can get going."

"You do not stay in one place very long." Ryou mused, staring at the back of Bakura's head.

"It's not safe." Bakura muttered. He fell back a little, so he kept in step with Ryou, and leaned his head to the side a little, so to keep his voice low. "Ryou, you know what they do to pirates. We've been caught out a couple of times, and it gets really hairy. I'd like to disappear in the night, but that would seem too suspicious, and we would be bound to get followed. It's best for everyone's safety to just get in, do what we need, and get out."

"... Oh." Ryou nodded weakly, pulling at the hem of his shirt, which was too long for him, self-consciously. "I did not realise that it was so... dangerous."

"Of course it is." Bakura smirked, picking up his pace a little. "Do you know how many times I've been arrested? You think they would have just learned by now..."

"Why do you do it, then?" Ryou asked boldly, looking up at the pirate captain who walked beside him. "If you are risking life and limb on a daily basis, then... Why? How can it be worth it?"

"Money." Bakura shrugged indifferently. "It's better than you think, especially for the captain, and especially on a good day. I've seen more of the world than I ever could have otherwise. I've met some amazing people. I've been to the wildest parties you could ever imagine, fought in some tough battles... What's not to love about that?"

"You could be arrested and tortured any day!" Ryou argued, his voice raising a little. "Bakura... How on earth can you find that appealing?"

"Ryou... You clearly measure life by how long it goes on for. I measure my life by how much I get done. Sure, I'm not gonna live to be old, but I'll have some amazing tales to tell. If I just got a sheltered lifestyle, it would be achingly dull. Quality over quantity, don't you think?"

"I..." Ryou trailed off, not knowing how to respond to that, because in his gut, he knew Bakura was right. "Well... I suppose..."

"We're here." Bakura stopped outside a normal-looking front door, just like all the others on the street. "Don't say anything, okay?"

"Does she know?" Ryou inquired softly as Bakura rapped his knuckles on the door.

"She thinks my ship is in the slave trade. It would kill her and her mother to find out Joey was a pirate. Just keep quiet about it." Bakura quelled Ryou with a look, and the whitenette nodded, digging his nails into his palms at his sides.

"'Ello?" The door cracked open, and a familiar dirty face peeped into the morning light. "Bakura!"

"Morning, Serenity." Bakura smiled as the red-headed girl closed the front door behind herself. He glanced down at her feet, and smile. "Nice shoes."

"Joey said I could 'ave 'em." Serenity challenged the pirate captain, taking a step back. Ryou looked down at the cobblestones. _It was his sister I gave the shoes to... Clever me. _

"I wasn't going to take the shoes." Bakura said mildly. "The dress is ruined," He shot Ryou a filthy look, who hunched his shoulders protectively, trying to make himelf appear as small as possible. "And nothing else will match. Just don't break them, they were expensive."

"'Course!" The redhead flashed a smile, smoothing out the creases in her stained brown dress. "Why're ya 'ere, anyways? Lookin' for Joey?"

"Yep." Bakura nodded, looking up at the sky, judging the position of the sun. "We got everything we need 'til Spain."

"Wher'ya goin after that?" Serenity asked curiously, wide-eyed. Ryou shot Bakura a glance, wanting to know himself.

"Probably the Americas." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Somewhere warm until it heats up proper." Serenity nodded, a wistful look on her face.

"Lucky Joey..." She mumbled, leaning against the doorframe. "Wish I could go..." She trailed off glumly.

"Yeah, well, women are awful bad luck on a ship." He muttered gruffly, attempting to steer the girl away from the topic. "Where did Joey say he was going? It's important we find him."

"Oh... Yeah..." Serenity bit her lip. "'e said somethin' about Houndsditch..."

"Oh _no."_ Bakura winced, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "That goddamned dog... Thank you Serenity. And it was good to see you again."

"Any time." Serenity smiled, before shutting the door, leaving Bakura and Ryou standing in the street.

"What is Houndsditch?" Ryou inquired curiously, earning a low chuckle from Bakura.

"It's a... Well, I'll just have to show you." Ryou blinked as Bakura grabbed at his wrist, a smile on his face that he didn't like.

* * *

"What the- _HEY!"_

Malik's eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright into a sitting position, jolted out of a fitful sleep. After the money Bakura gave him had been _stolen_ (just his luck), he'd wandered around half the night, before collapsing, exhausted, on a pile of hay out the back of somebody's house. And by the sounds of it, they had just realised.

"Get off of my property, you cur!" Malik yelped as the man grabbed at his ear, pulling him into a standing position. "How dare you!"

"Ow!" Malik lunged out at the male who had a grip on him, but he was taller, and better built. "Let go! That _hurts!"_

"Good!" Malik gasped as he was pushed into the street, and, losing his footing, splashed into a foul-smelling puddle of muck. The Egyptian received a look of intent hate and pure fury, before the man spat onto the cobblestones, and walked off, muttering.

"Bastard." Malik stood up, brushing a little dirt off of his clothing. He rubbed at his eyes, and started to walk, trying to judge from the sun and his surroundings here exactly he was. However, he had almost no previous knowledge of London, having never gone through the city on his own before, and to him, all the narrow, winding streets of London looked exactly the same.

_What the hell am I going to do._ Malik sighed morosely, drifting off for a moment. _I have to figure out where the port the ship is docked at is. Then wait there until Bakura and the rest come back. Unless they leave me behind._

_They wont._ The thought sank in his chest all the same. _They can't... Bakura wasn't being serious when he told me to leave, I'm sure. He couldn't be-_

"Ow!" Malik gasped as a taller man walked straight into him, knocking him slightly.

"What the hell!" Maliks' eyes widened as the male rounded on him, freezing. Upon closer inspection, however, the Egyptian realised that the man was just a boy, no more than two years older than him. "What's your problem!"

"Excuse me?" Something twisted in Malik's stomach as he noticed the male looking him up and down, sizing him up. "You walked into me!"

"Hey, just shut the hell up you stupid ni-"

"Don't you _dare_." Shaking with cold fury, Malik grabbed the collar of the males' shirt, slamming him hard against a heavy stone wall. "I'm Egyptian you ignorant bastard. There is a fucking _difference!"_ Although he really knew better, Maliks' anger got the better of him, and he drew his fist back, and slammed it, as hard as he could, in the mans' jaw.

He screamed, howling in pain as he clutched his broken jaw, sinking to his knees on the ground. Malik but his lip as he took a step back, before turning and running, as fast as his legs could carry him, weaving in and out through the crowds of people, heart thudding in his chest. Finally, when the stitch in his side became too much to handle, and his lungs were burning, Malik slowed to a half, doubling over with his hands on his knees as he panted and gasped for air.

When he finally raised his head, Malik stared around himself, trying to figure out where his panicked run had taken him. It was a farmers' market, with hundred crying their wares, housewives haggling over prices, and children dashing about the place, but he recognized nothing, and, of course, no one seemed recognizable – That was, until a familiar flash of emerald eyes and a ponytail of jet black hair winked at him from a beef stall. Malik almost crumpled in relief, and picked up his pace, starting to run again.

"Devlin!"

* * *

"Bakura... What on earth _is_ this place?"

"Houndsditch." He clenched his hand tightly around Ryou's, squeezing it reassuringly. Although he would never admit it, to himself, or to anyone else, Ryou was admittedly glad for the little comfort. "Sure, it's full of brothels, but it's actually a pretty nice place."

"I- Ugh!" Ryou jumped into Bakura's side as a huge rat skittered across the pavement ahead of him, and buried his head in the captains shoulder. "Bakura..."

"It's just a bloody rat." Bakura teased, but wrapped an arm around Ryou's shoulder all the same.

"That was the biggest rat I've ever seen." Ryou moaned weakly, and sniffed. Bakura rolled his eyes.

"You haven't been at the bottom level of my ship yet, have you." Bakura muttered, low enough that Ryou wouldn't hear. "Come on, harden up." Bakura pulled away from Ryou, and grabbed at his wrist again. "I have an inkling where Joey might be..."

"A-All... Right." Ryou's shoulders slumped as Bakura pushed open the door to one many along the street, and marched inside. Although it was only mid-morning, the pub was more than half-filled, a mixture of drunken men dangling empty tankards and giggling, hollowed-eyed girls flittering about like drab, faded butterflies. Ryou kept his eyes on the floor, feeling uncomfortable. Even in the tiny village he spent the last few years in, Ryou had never encountered anything so... Lewd.

"I bloody knew it." Ryou blinked, and looked up from the floor to Bakura, who was speaking to the man behind the bar. "Typical Joey. Has he come down yet?"

"Nup." The man shrugged, polishing a wooden cup with a very dirty rag, "'aven't seen either of 'em all mornin'. Didn't go to bed 'til five, mind..."

"Thanks for the help." Bakura said appreciatively. The barman shrugged.

"'im and 'is gang spent pounds between 'em mate. Thank _you."_ Ryou winced as his arm was tugged again, and he reluctantly followed Bakura across the room of the bar, and up a rickety, narrow flight of stairs.

"Bakura... What exactly has Joey been doing? I donnot understand..."

"Ryou, look around." Bakura sighed, stepping out onto the second floor, facing a long corridor of rooms, about twenty in all. "What do you think happened?" Ryou's eyes widened.

"Y-You mean to say that Joey slept with a... a whore?" he choked the last word out, almost too afraid to utter the term. His insides still burned with a cold fury at the thought of Joey. Ryou would _never _forgive him for what he had done.

"I actually wish it was that simple." Bakura muttered darkly, before pausing outside a beaten, scratched up door, riddled with several bullet holes. "Joe!" He pushed his way inside the room without knocking, still dragging the demure whitenette along behind him. "C'mon mate, it's almost eleven!"

"Fuck off." Ryou's hand was dropped, and he stared at the bed, which took up most of the poky little room. Joey was half-asleep, his face buried in the pillow, and at his side, a woman groaned as she rubbed sleep out of her eyes.

"Mai Valentine." Bakura rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. The blonde smirked, and sat up, half-heartedly covering her busty chest with the thin sheet. Ryou blushed a deep shade of red, and lowered his eyes. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Aw, come now." Mai cocked her head to one side. "I thought we were past stage names by this point, Bakura."

"You would think so." Bakura sighed tiredly. "Do you mind giving me back my first mate? We have to leave in less than an hour."

"An _hour!"_ Mai's eyes widened, and she rounded on the man beside her in horror. "You pig! You said you were in London for a week!"

"C'mon." Jou finally sat up, clearing his throat. "If I said I was gonna be in town f' one night only, you-"

"I _what?"_ Bakura crossed his arms, and grinned, and Mai hit the blonde around the head. "I wouldn't have slept with you? You _bastard!"_

"Mai-"

"I'm not listening!" Ryou squeaked as Mai jumped out of the bed, wrapped in the sheet. Bakura chuckled under his breath, loud enough for only him and Ryou to hear. "You _always_ do this!" As she spoke, Mai marched around the room, picking up her clothes. "Every time you come back here, you spin some lie and get me in bed! It never stops!"

"Well, if it wasn't so easy-"

"_WHAT!"_ Mai screeched, dropping the clothes, and leaping onto the bed. "You _bastard!"_

"C'mon." Bakura managed to mumble through his suppressed laughs, taking Ryou's arm, and pulling him out of the room. "Meet us in an hour!" He called out to Joey, who was invisible beneath Mai, who was beating him as hard as he could. "Bloody hell..."

"Who _is_ that woman?" Ryou breathed as soon as the door as closed, turning to Bakura wide-eyed.

"Mai Valentine." Bakura muttered, shaking his head. "Well, that's her stage name. But She won't tell anyone her real name. It's probably something boring like Jane Brown or something..."

"Stage name?" Ryou inquired, frowning a little. "I donnot understand..."

"Ryou, she's a prostitute." Bakura responded in a deadpan tone. "Her and Joey have had a thing going on for years."

"But they seem like they hate each other..."

"That's because they're both insane." Bakura explained. "One moment they're enemies, then the next they could be at it in public. They'll probably get married when they decide to settle down... God knows when that will be..."

"Oh..." Ryou appeared deep in thought as he was led down the stars by Bakura. "I... I know it is not my place, but..." The tone in his voice made the pirate captain stop, and regard Ryou with interest. "Have _you_ ever gotten married?"

"_What?"_ Bakura burst out laughing. "U-Umm... No." He finally stuttered when he had control of his breath, shaking his head. "Never been that serious with anyone."

"Oh." Ryou nodded, and started to walk again, leading Bakura for a few moments, before a sharp tug on his hand made him stop, and he let Bakura take the lead again. "Have... No, that is stupid."

"No no, try me." Bakura arched an eyebrow in interest, looking at Ryou. "Ask away."

"Have you ever actually... Been in love with a woman?"

"Hell no." Bakura snorted. "I mean, I've been _with_ heaps, and it's not like I don't find women attractive, but I've never been in _love_ with one... Never been in love with any, really..."

"Never?" The pair were in the pub again, and Bakura tightened his grip on Ryou's hand, pulling back into the outside world. Ryou blinked as his eyes met sunlight, and looked over to Bakura. "You've never been in love?"

"Have you?" Bakura countered, stopping in his brisk walk to look at Ryou. The teens' cheeks flushed.

"Well, no, I have not, but... I am but fifteen, and Joey said you were twenty-seven..."

"So I must have found love before?" Bakura shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint Ryou, but it's never happened." He picked up his pace again. "I don't mind."

"I was just wondering." Ryou murmured, giving Bakura an odd look. Although Bakura said he was absolutely fine with it, there was something in his voice, in his eyes, that suggested otherwise.

Ryou and Bakura walked silently through the narrow, winding streets, each thinking their own confusing thoughts.

* * *

"A pleasure to welcome you, Mr. Kaiba."

"It's a pleasure to be here, Sir." The brunette gave the Naval Officer a low bow, before taking a seat in the chair that had been pulled out for him. "I am greatly honoured to learn that you have fulfilled my request for an audience." Seto played up the piety as much as he could, making himself seem almost like he was sucking up to the man.

"You seemed adamant to see me." A shuffle of papers. "This message you send was marked as highly urgent..."

"It is, Mr. Blackburn." Seto kept his hands folded in his lap. "I was hoping to meet with you as soon as possible."

"Yes yes, now what is it you have come to ask me for?" There was a tired, bored tone in the mans' voice, as he leaned back a little in his chair.

"I have... information." Seto's hands clenched a little in his chair. "I have certain knowledge that a pirate ship has docked into a London harbour. The Black Grail. That ship has held an English court member hostage."

"Pardon?" Blackburn's eyes widened, leaning forward a little in his chair. "The Black... Who has been taken hostage?"

"Ryou Cooper." Seto responded, swallowing a little. "The son of... Jonathon James Cooper." The man arched an eyebrow.

"Jonathon... There was a warrant for his arrest several years ago from the King himself if I remember correctly..."

"That was because he spoke out against the illegal taking of Ship Money!" Seto burst out, knuckles white, hoping that the officer hadn't lost interest. "It is an almost unanimous decision around the court that that taxation is unlawful."

"I know, I know." He sighed. "Mr. Kaiba... I am firmly against that tax just as much as any who works in the sailing industry. But he should never have called Charles a tyrant to his face... That is not the point. Why are you telling me this? What do you expect me to do, send an armada of ships after a fleeting glimpse?"

"No." Seto sighed. "I am asking for you to grant me short-term ownership of one of your ships."

"_Pardon?"_ He stared at the brunette wide-eyed. "You want me to give you one of my best ships to go chasing about a pirate? Are you insane?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous." Seto tried to point out his reason. "But I think you are forgetting what is being delivered to Spain soon." Blackburn froze. "The Kings' personal token of tribute. Do you really want the most notorious pirate ship in Europe wandering about the oceans while we try to deliver it?"

"I... I..."

"All I need is one ship." Seto took a persuading, manipulative tone. "I will handpick the crew myself. Imagine how revered you would be, to have a ship under your high command arrest the infamous Bakura. Indeed, you would probably be facing a promotion, I hear that Major Thompson has taken poorly-"

"All right!" the old man caved. "You can have one of my ships. But I will have one of my men on board to make sure you don not stray out of line."

"Deal." Seto nodded.

"And no one is to hear of this, do you understand? _No one_."

"It is why I requested a private audience, sir." Seto smiled, and stood up. "It is a pleasure to know that we have reached an agreement. I shall be ready to depart by dawn tomorrow." He fare welled the man, before leaving the room, standing alone in the vast hallway of the mans' rich London manor. _Well, that was easier than I thought._ Seto brushed his hair from his eyes. _Much easier. I will have Ryou rescued, and a major, major boost in my career if this works out. Which it shall. _

_Bakura is not going to know what hit him_.

* * *

OH MY GOD! Plot development! I knew it would happen sometime! xD

R&R?


	17. Chapter 17

Heyyyy!

Yeah, I know it's a little late, I'm sorry -.-

And OMG there is some REAL LIVE ACTUAL PLOT/CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!... SORTA!

I kid you not. Or do I?

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"Do they fit all right?"

Ryou straightened his back after bending down to tie the laces on the soft leather boots, and looked down at his feet, wiggling his toes. He could move them, but it wasn't too roomy.

"They are perfect." Ryou stood up, and flashed Bakura a smile. "Thank you."

"No trouble." Bakura turned away from Ryou, watching as Tristan dropped a heavy crate onto the planks. "Hey! Careful you idiot!"

"Sorry, it was just heavy." Tristan protested. "I can't lug it down t'the bottom by myself, I-"

"Oh, all right." Bakura sighed, and crossed the deck of his ship to the brunette, gripping one half of the crate. "C'mon, I'll help. Have you seen Devlin anywhere, perchance?"

"Yeah, I think he was checking out prices at the markets or somethin'… Said he'd be here by half-eleven."

"That was fifteen minutes ago, bloody hell…" The conversation between the two faded away as they vanished from earshot. Ryou looked down at his feet again. He'd never actually owned a pair of real boots before, it had always been childish slip-shod shoes, or loafer-styles. They made his feet like surprisingly large, actually. Ryou smiled weakly, and stood up, arching his back and letting out a long yawn. He crossed the deck slowly, and rested his hands on the freshly-painted railing, leaning over and staring into the water. It was sunny, and the river water, a dark shade of emerald, sparkled in the sun.

_He's left me alone._ Ryou straightened his back, and frowned. _Bakura has left me out on deck by myself. I suppose that he trusts me now, after saying all of this._

_But... _

_Do I want to run?_ Ryou eyed the deck, a frown creasing his features. _I could take off... But then I would more than likely be kidnapped again and brought back. And Lord knows what Bakura would do to me if I was to be returned after an attempted escape... Murder, more than likely. And... I am not so sure that I want to try and leave. Not just because the risk would be far too high and the consequences unbearable. And Bakura is becoming to be slightly civil towards me. I wonder why..._

_What he said to me that night I was interrogated still sits with me. Those words about this ship being freedom. And about not having to keep up appearances. But Bakura makes the shift in lifestyle sound so easy. I wish I could say that he does not know what it is like to go from being an upper class gentleman to a lowly vagrant. But he does. Indeed, it sounds he had it worse._

_But that does not mean I do not want to leave._ Ryou leaned forward, biting down hard on his lip. _I keep thinking about my Aunt and Uncle. This is not fair. Bakura must be able to understand, he must!_

_… I am so confused._ Ryou let out a low moan, sinking to his knees. _I do not know what to think anymore. Bakura has me second-guessing myself. How can he be doing this? What on earth runs through his mind?_

_I can't leave. _Ryou screwed his eyes shut tightly. Guilt was surging through his chest. How was it that last night Bakura sounded... Hurt? _But I wonder what my escape attempt damaged. His feelings, or his pride? _Ryou flopped onto the salt-burnished floorboards, his hair flowing out around him. He stared up at the sky, which was close to clear, a brilliant blue, save for a scattering of puffy white clouds. _What to do? What on earth can I do? _He rolled over onto his side, pressing a palm against the rough floorboards. _I'm so unsure of myself. _

"What the hell are you doing?" Bakura remarked as he slammed the door behind himself. Ryou jumped, and sat up, blinking rapidly. "Hm?"

"… Nothing." Ryou flashed a weak smile, and scratched the back of his head. "Just thinking."

"About me?" Bakura rested a hand on his hip. He was still wearing his brilliant scarlet coat, edged in gold thread, and his cleanest, tidiest breeches. Ryou had to admit, Bakura did look very handsome, in a roguish, scruffy sort of way…

"… No." Ryou looked away, and to his eternal shame, blushed. Bakura shook his head, and chuckled, before extending a hand out to Ryou. The teenager took the grasp firmly, and stood up with Bakura's help. His breath froze in his throat as Bakura caught him by the lips, eyes widening to an almost impossible size. Bakura wove a hand through Ryou's hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Ryou gripped Bakura's shoulders, instinctively wanting to push the pirate away, but something in the pit of his stomach refused to let his muscles work…

"Liar." Bakura muttered with a smirk as he pulled away, their foreheads touching. "I'm driving you crazy, aren't I?" He emphasized his point by cupping his hand over Ryou's rounded behind, squeezing lightly. Ryou jumped, his fingers digging into the scarlet fabric around Bakura's shoulders.

"Stop." Ryou protested weakly, his cheeks flushing hotter than ever. Bakura merely chuckled, the fingertips of his left hand lightly stroking Ryou's scalp.

"I take that to be a yes." He sighed, somewhat coolly, before pulling away. Ryou's shoulders slumped, his arms sinking to his sides. A cloud past over the sun, and a cold breeze whipped up.

"I-I think I shall go lie down." Ryou swallowed, his mouth dry, and walked past Bakura into the room he shared with the captain. He leaned against the door, and rubbed at his eyes. Ryou felt confused. And scared.

_Something was stirring inside me_. Ryou stood up straight, and stumbled over to the bed, which he collapsed into with a long, long sigh. _A part of me..._

_Liked it._

_I am disgusting._

Hot tears welled up in Ryou's eyes, the sense of self-loathing increasing. _He kidnapped me. He took away the last things I care about. Because of him, I am a prisoner here. I have no parents, no home, almost no possessions... He raped me. He has treated me terribly, and even attempted to strangle me. _

_And he is a male. _

_How can I even think about possibly feeling this way?_ Ryou rolled over to his side, and buried his face in the pillow. _This is stupid. And impossible. What I feel... It is just the teenager inside of me talking. These touches and kisses I am receiving... It is just my body, reacting to the attention. I do not have any attraction towards him._

Bakura's face flashed through Ryou's mind. The white-haired-boy bit his lip, hands clenching into fists.

_Even letting myself think this way is wrong. Thinking about thinking about something is still terribly wrong. What on earth his wrong with me? _Ryou sniffed, and stared out the window. _Bakura was wrong. I am not free here. I am still his prisoner, whether I like it or not. And I most definitely do not like this. But perhaps... _

_Perhaps if I respond the way Bakura wants me to, I could... earn my freedom._

"Are ya talkin' ta me yet?"

"Of course I am." Mai rolled her eyes, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Joey was still lying down in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his hands folded behind his head. "I'm just… _God_ Joey…"

"What?" The blonde man sat up in bed, a frown on his face. "Mai, I don' geddit. Why are ya so upset 'bout this? I jus' said I was gonna be a week not a day-"

"Because!" Mai snapped, and stood up. She was wearing nothing but a semi-clean cotton shift, the sash at her waist untied. "I… I gotta tell you something…"

"What?" A look of worry crossed Joey's face as Mai sat down, her face paling. "Mai, tell me."

"I…I thought you would have noticed." She was sitting opposite him, her legs folded. Joey tilted his head to one side, not understanding. "I… Did you not tell I've gotten… heavier?"

"Well, yeah." The man shrugged indifferently. "I jus' thought ya were eatin' more." Mai shot him a death glare, then sighed, letting it go.

"Well… Joey…" Mai kept her eyes down, trying so hard to not fumble over her words. "D-Do you remember… About five months ago? When your ship was in Dover for repairs?"

"Yeah… We were there fer a month, it was pretty much wrecked. An' ya came to stay." Mai nodded, her hands shaking slightly. She had no idea how Joey was going to take the potentially devastating news.

"Well… I went to the Apothecary a couple of months ago…" Mai shared a glance with Joey, and looked down at her hands again. "An' a month ago, I'd saved up, an' I went to a special physician… He was Italian, so you know he was spot on about the time it was con…"

"Mai!" Joey grabbed the womans' shoulders, and forced her to look him in the eye. "What's wrong? A-Are ya… Sick?"

Mai opened her mouth to speak, but found her lips unable to form the words. She was too terrified, aware of everything that lay on the line, depending on Joey's reaction. Instead, she grabbed one of Joey's hands with her own, and, trembling madly, she placed Joey's palm on her swollen stomach.

Joey sat still, a deep frown on his face, a cold trickle of nervousness starting to seep down his spine. It turned into a waterfall of cold realization, as something fluttered beneath his hand, a tiny little kick.

"NO!" Joey pulled back in shock, his eyes wide. He backed away from Mai as fast as he could, until he hit the wall, heart thudding in his chest. Mai sat down on the bed with her head bowed, splayed hands over her stomach, sick with disappointment, and rejection.

"Apparently it was… it was conceived when we were both in Dover." Mai's voice was shaking. Joey could tell she was crying. "I-It c-can't be anyone elses, I… I…" Joey sighed as the woman wiped hurriedly at his eyes.

"Shit." Joey said quite blankly, disbelieving. "I… No…"

"I'm sorry." Mai breathed, clearly trying so hard to keep her composure. It was hormones, more than anything, that was bringing on such an emotional outburst, but of course she had no idea, and merely cursed herself for acting so weakly.

"Mai…" Words failed Joey as he stared at the woman, the realization starting to sink in. _I'm gonna be a father. _He realized how horribly upset she was, thinking her deep fear of Joey rejecting her had been realized. He sighed, and momentarily closed his eyes."Mai, don' cry…" Joey crawled towards Mai, and gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "It's somethin' we talked 'bout…"

"Not so soon…" Mai whispered. "You said you wanted to see more of the world…"

"Don' worry." Joey shifted himself, so he sat behind Mai, and was able to wrap his arms around her waist, and rest his hands on her stomach. "It'll be okay."

"I thought you would leave me." Mai sniffed. "You hear those things… Sailors knocking up whores and leaving."

"I'm not gonna do that." Joey announced, tightening his hold on the blonde. "Ya should know that b'now."

"So you'll stay?" Mai looked behind her, to the man, eyes full of hope. Joey froze.

"I-I never said that…" Joey muttered gruffly, and pulled away. Mai's shoulders slumped as Joey pulled on his trousers, and she fought down the urge to spill out more tears. "Mai… I'm first mate. I can' just' leave…"

"Bakura would understand if you explained." Mai said firmly, standing up. "Joey, soon I won't be able t'work anymore, not with _this._" She pointed to her stomach. Although it did only look like she had put on a lot of extra weight, both knew that within a couple of weeks, it would be far too noticeable.

"I can' leave." Joey repeated, his shirt in his hands. "You hafta understand…"

"Talk to Bakura." Mai pleaded, taking Joey's hand.

"I'll try, but I dunno what I can do-"

"Joey Wheeler." There was that flash of steel, that sharp note on her tongue that Joey had grown to admire, loathe, and love. "You are _not_ going to leave me with your child." She dug her nails into Joey's wrist, earning a howl from the blonde.

"All _right!"_ Joey gritted his teeth, pulling his arm free. "Christ! Mai, I said I'd never leave you! And I mean it." His voice softened. He was trying to speak as eloquently as he could, and Mai could notice. "Don' get scared. I'll talk ta Bakura." He felt torn. Terrified that he was going to have to quit going what he loved, and put up with Mai twenty-four-seven, and also excited, that he was going to be a father. A _father._

Mai managed a weak smile.

"Why do ya look so nervous?" Devlin turned and asked the Egyptian slave, who was walking along beside him quietly. Behind them, the paid youth was plodding along with the wheeled hand-cart loaded with food and water supplies. "Bakura said all was forgiven when he saw you before. You're lookin' a little green there, Malik." Like Bakura, Devlin, who had a good heart, despite his profession, always had a soft spot for the oddball slave that Bakura picked up in the markets, and always tried to go as easy as he could on Malik.

"Oh…" Malik sighed deeply. "I'm just thinking… About things…" He shrugged. The message was clear. _Back off, I don't want to talk about it_. Malik was still yet to speak to Ryou. More than anything, he just didn't know what to say. It was partly his fault that Ryou was almost killed, and he was simply worried, more than anything. He wanted to know Ryou was okay.

_Ugh. I do care too much about him. It's a wonder that Bakura hasn't picked anything up himself yet. Mind you, he's so busy with his own burning desire for Ryou. It's so obvious that he has a deep affection for Ryou. I've seen him like this before, with others, when he did let himself care too much, and it always came back round to haunt him. Maybe he's not going to let himself put trust in someone again. But Ryou... How does he feel? Does he even like Bakura? I need to ask him. But what is he going to say? Especially after I kissed him…_ Maliks' cheeks grew hot._ Is he going to be honest with me? With himself?_

"How long have you known Bakura?" Malik asked out of the blue after a long period of silence. Devlin blinked, and cocked his head to one side, trying to think.

"Err… I think, about five years. Just after the mutiny." He looked at the Egyptian. "Why?"

"Well… I just wanted to know. How close has Bakura gotten with any of his…" Malik cast his eyes heavenwards, trying to phrase it gently. "Servants."

"Define close." Devlin looked over to Malik with a strange look. "Like, touching close, or emotional close."

"Emotional close." Malik clarified. Devlin then shrugged ambiguously.

"Dunno." He muttered. "It's not something he talks about. But he's gotten awful mopey at times after he loses them." Malik's shoulders slumped in a long sigh. "Why?"

"I think he's lonely." Malik said quietly, eyes gazing off. "He's letting himself get close because he secretly craves the emotional and intimate closeness… But it's not like he'll ever admit it."

"You've been thinking this over." Malik frowned a little. "So, what's brought all of this on?" He looked over intently at the teenager, having to know.

"Well, I just… Promise me you will tell no one." Malik began, locking his gaze with the black-haired man. "Bakura will kill me if it gets out."

"All right." Devlin nodded in understanding.

"… I think he's getting emotionally involved with Ryou." Malik mumbled quietly. "I think that he's letting himself feel something that Ryou obviously doesn't feel."

"… Oh." Devlin made a face, and then rubbed at his eyes. "Shit, we have to go through this again…"

"I'm trying to avoid it." Malik pleaded. "I'm trying to convince Ryou to at least act like he loves Bakura." Devlin only shook his head.

"Man, what _happened_ to that man." He sighed, looking up at the sky with large, emerald eyes. Malik bit on his lower lip, and shrugged hopelessly.

"I really wish I knew."

* * *

The moment Ryou was sure that he was completely alone, and had gotten over his little 'moment', he climbed off the bed, and crossed the room, to where a little end table stood, spindly-legged, with a small drawer. It was a look, more than anything, something Bakura had taken and could not be bothered to sell. Perhaps he liked it. Ryou pulled open the drawer, and pushed past the contents. It was mainly scraps of paper, very, very cheap jewellery, and other such stupid trinkets. Ryou but his lip as his long fingers rifled through the drawer, until they brushed a familiar piece of gold, at the back, hidden underneath a pile of brooches, some of which Ryou had unclasped to put Bakura off looking. He drew out his gold pendant, and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the familiar engraving and detail of the Tudor coat of arms.

_Strange as it might seem, but life must have been simpler._ Ryou sighed. _At least they could trust their own Monarch. Moreover, like father said, there was much fewer "new money" floating around, demanding undeserved grandeur._

_Ugh._

_Listen __to me!_ Ryou groaned. _I sound so pathetic. I sound like I actually believe that people who cannot trace their nobility back at least a century are worthless._

_I sound like my family._

Although he was never exactly down-to-earth, Ryou always believed that his parents, aunts and uncles, and, when they were alive, grandparents, went on far too long about the 'decay' of the nation. And they always seemed to blame the Scots. _But they were the insufferable ones. I had several Scottish friends, and they seemed so nice. Perhaps they were simply jealous, that they were on the outs with the King. Probably._

_Does it even matter anymore?_ Ryou slumped his shoulders glumly. _Their incessant prattle still lingers, even though I have been away from it for years. But I do not understand, how they prided themselves on having the power to make decisions for the country, yet did absolutely nothing..._

_Why am I questioning this?_ Ryou tightened his hold on the necklace. _Why am I thinking so less of these people all of a sudden? Has what Bakura said had that much of an effect on me? But how can he say such things? He has been away from the court life for seventeen years. Seventeen years ago, the only masques and balls that were held consisted of only drinking and vulgarities. Of course he would hold criticism for that shallow, empty pastime._

_But what does that make their gossip? I can be as high and mighty as I like, but the depths of their discussion never pervaded any further than seemingly endless faults of other nobility. It was far from intellectually stimulating. In fact, the only halfway-decent discussions I remember ever having was with Seto Kaiba._

_Why am I second-guessing myself? Am I really going to renounce my pattern of thinking, my social and cultural way of life that my family has enjoyed for over two hundred years, because of what Bakura said? _Ryou moaned, and rubbed at his eyes, tiredly, before looking back down at the necklace. _It matters not. My name is complete mud. I could never regain the social standing I had, no matter my how charming I could make myself. I am no Villiers. _

Ryou stood up, and walked back over to the end table, where he replaced the gold pendant and chain, underneath the little heap of unlocked brooches. He shut the drawer silently, and straightened his back, letting out a long yawn. He had never before actually properly considered how profound the effect that this would have on his future. He could never become a Justice of the Peace, like his father. Never become a member of the House of Lords, like his grand-father and great-grandfather. He would be lucky to become a lawyer, and that would only be if someone was kind enough to give him charity. And with the current state of the economy, no one would be capable of sparing a penny for him.

_And yet, Bakura has coped._ Ryou stared out the window, at the Thames river, and all those that paddled along on boats, clustered the streets, and balanced precariously on home-made rafts. _He has been exiled from that upper classes longer than I have been alive. And he appears to be fine. He has made a place for himself, albeit as a pirate. He is wealthy, and certainly well-known…_

_But I am not brave in that respect_. Ryou sighed glumly._ I have not got the courage, or the strength of character to commit something so bold. No, more than likely, I shall while the rest of my life away as a gentleman-in-waiting somewhere. If I am lucky. Ugh._ Ryou screwed his eyes up, nose wrinkled in disgust. He couldn't think of anything he loathed more. Being forced to wear the airs and graces of the rich, but having to take home such a pathetically small pay packet…

"Ryou?" Bakura pushed open the bedroom door, interrupting Ryou's somewhat broken train of thought. "You all good in here?"

"Fine." Ryou murmured somewhat distractedly, still staring out the window.

"Well, this is last call. I'm going in to the city to grab a few more last-minute things and round Joey up. Is there anything you wanted?"

"Hmm?" Ryou frowned as he turned around, staring at Bakura. "What I… Want?"

"Yes." Bakura shrugged. "I caught you reading the Bible. Are you _that_ starved of literature?" Ryou blushed, and looked down, raising his shoulders slightly in a half-hearted shrug. "Look, you sitting around doing nothing all day is pointless. What do you like? Poetry? Stories? Plays? What?"

"I like poetry." Ryou smiled meekly. "If that is all right… But anything will do…"

"Even a propaganda-filled pamphlet?" Bakura raised an eyebrow. Ryou smiled weakly, and shook his head. "Then you _don't_ want 'anything', picky."

"All right then." Bakura smirked, and wrapped his arms around Ryou's shoulders in a loose embrace. Ryou closed his eyes as Bakura placed a kiss on his temple, his hands starting to shake as Bakura's nose trailed down his cheek.

"Calm down." Bakura's voice rumbled in his throat, and he tightened his hold around Ryou, as though it were meant to calm him. The teenager swallowed, trying and failing to quell the trembling in his limbs. Bakura made a sound of annoyance in his throat as he pulled away, glaring at Ryou. "I'm not out to get you, Ryou." He muttered. Ryou kept his eyes shut tightly, and clenched his hands as Bakura walked out of the room. The door was slammed, and Ryou let out a long breath when he was alone again. His chest hurt, like a bubble was being inflated, and started pushing in his throat. Ryou bowed his head, but after a while, was unable to take it, and he sank onto the large, comfortable bed. He burst into tears, brushing weakly, ineffectually at his eyes, his cheek still tingling where Bakura touched him.

_I have to do something._ Ryou thought mournfully, grabbing at a pillow, which he buried his face in. _I have to tell Bakura to stop._

_I can't keep having him do this to me._

* * *

"Ryou?"

The whitenette, who lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, looked up as Malik closed the door behind himself with a small smile. "You all right?"

"No." Ryou shook his head and sighed, replacing his gaze on the ceiling. Malik crossed the room quietly, and then lay down beside Ryou, giving him a quick look. His eyes were red-rimmed. "Bakura is…"

"He's what?" Malik encouraged, propping himself up on one elbow to better look at Ryou. "Tell me."

"He is being strange toward me." Ryou closed his eyes, feeling drained. "He is being so… Close."

"Close?" Malik raised an eyebrow. Ryou nodded.

"He keeps kissing me." A single tear rolled down Ryou's cheek. "I-I cannot stand it…"

"Oh?" Malik forced down a groan. "Why not?"

"Because!" Ryou opened his eyes, a frown on his face. "I am not going to partake in any such… ugh!"

"So you don't feel anything for him." Malik muttered quietly, and sat up. Ryou sniffed, and swallowed.

"…I think I am." His voice was small, almost broken-sounding. "A-And that is why I feel so… Wrong…"

"It's not wrong, Ryou." Malik jumped at the chance, and bent over Ryou earnestly. "Seriously. Men go for each other all the time."

"I know that." Ryou sighed wearily. "Pederasty is still quite common, and even the most famous Emperors of Rome had male sexual partners. But… Malik, I-I am… I follow Anglican doctrine. I follow Christian beliefs. And they are _very_ clear about what happens to males who are with other men…"

"Ah, so what." Malik shrugged. "All that about religion is a lie anyways." Ryou gave Malik a look. "What?"

"Well, what cult are you a part of, then?" The white-haired teenager asked, a stubborn, hurt expression on his face.

"Egyptian." Malik sighed. "The old religion. No one has really believed for over a thousand years, but…" He looked down at his toes. "I grew up with the tales and morals of the old Gods. You know, Ra and Isis and Osiris and all that. I'm not sure if it's what I _believe_ in, but it's the closest I have to a religion I guess." He shrugged weakly. "I don't think it matters really."

"It does." Ryou argued, sitting up. "Surely, you cannot _want_ to condemn your eternal soul to a life of hellfire and tor-_Hmph!_" The boy shot Malik a glare, who had clapped a hand over his mouth.

"You're not going to start preaching to me." The Egyptian have Ryou a look. "If I believed in, or cared, about any of that, I would have converted by now."

"So what do you think will happen when you die?" Ryou asked as Malik lowered his hand from his mouth. The blonde lay down on the bed, his arms held behind his head.

"My father always said that my heart will be weighed by Anubis and if I was judged unworthy for the afterlife, fed to Ammit." Malik stared at the ceiling.

"… But that is stupid." Ryou frowned.

"I don't think it is." Malik's teeth were gritted. "No one knows what happens when you die. But if you live your life as pure and pious as you can… Isn't that enough?"

"But you have to believe." Ryou argued. "God isn't going to love and accept you if you do not believe in him."

"But he doesn't exist." Malik muttered. "Look, I'm not getting into a debate about religion. You never answered my question."

"Which was?" Ryou looked over to the blonde, questioningly. "Malik?"

"Do you feel anything for Bakura?" Malik repeated the question he had asked earlier. Ryou bit his lip, and looked around, wondering how he could truthfully answer that question.

"I do not know." Ryou finally admitted, unable to look Malik in the eye. "A part of me enjoys this attention that he is giving me when he is intimate." A faint blush spread across his cheeks. "He is… a very good kisser." Ryou finished off in a rush, his eyes lowered. "And there are times when he is gentle." Ryou bit his lip. "And times when he seems absolutely psychotic, and I am afraid of my very life when I am around him."

"… So it's a yes then?" Malik asked almost eagerly, lying on his side and looking at Ryou, who had his gaze on the low ceiling, his face bright red in a strong blush.

"W-Well…"

"Even a tiny little something?" Malik pushed at Ryou, hoping to extract the suspected truth from him. Ryou, by this point, had a flaming face, his hands trembling.

"W-Well… Yes." A small surge of emotion flooded through Ryou's chest. "I-I-I suppose I do."

* * *

And now, a moment of silence, for our loyal, noble, chocolate comerade, Bernie Mac.

1957-2008.

Goodnight, sweet prince. May you earn laughter in heaven.

(All that aside, R&R?)


	18. Chapter 18

WOOOOOOO UPDATE!

Well, it's September the 2nd, what do you expect?

soooo

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RYOU!

-fweeeeee-

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

"There."

Ryou, who had been lying on the bed, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling, jumped up as a package wrapped in thin brown cloth was tossed on the bed beside him. "Don't say I never get you anything."

"What is it?" Ryou inquired as he managed to sit up, reaching out for the parcel cross-legged. He frowned as he hefted the package in his hand, judging its' weight.

"What I told you I was giving you." Bakura rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall as he watched Ryou pull at the brown string.

"I... _oh!_" Ryou's eyes lit up as he stared at the small selection of books that had been picked out for him. "Bakura..." He didn't know what to say, looking down at them. "I do not know what to say..."

"I think..." Bakura walked towards the bed, where he leaned over Ryou, splayed palms on the mattress. The white-haired boy looked up at him with a gulp, eyes wide with fear. "You _know_ how to repay me for this.. _excellent_ kindness..."

"_Thank you._" Ryou darted away, and Bakura noticed his lower lip trembling. He collected the books with shaking hands, noting their titles. He stacked them on his bedside table, and gathered up the material, which he folded neatly, setting down beside his new books. Bakura noticed that he kept his eyes lowered the entire time, his jaw resolutely tight. "Was there anything else that you required-"

"Why are you so afraid of me." Bakura cut Ryou off, his eyes boring into him. Ryou backed away, as Bakura sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing himself against the headboard.

"W-Well..." He said, somewhat hopelessly, his hands twisting and turning in his lap. "Why do you _think? _You _raped_ me! Y-You play all of these sick disgusting games with me!" The lost, scared tone had almost vanished from Ryou's voice. He was becoming angry. "You abused and dehumanized me, you dressed me up as a _woman_, you... You..." Ryou's voice cracked, and he bowed his head, shaking madly. Bakura sat up as he watched Ryou cry, something twisting in his chest. Guilt.

"Don't cry." It came out harsher than he meant to, and the moment it was uttered, Bakura regretted the words. Ryou bit his lip, hard, head bowed, trying to muffle his sobs, but the odd muffled squeak was still emitted, and it was putting Bakura on edge. "I _mean_ it. Don't cry."

"I-I cannot help but cry!" Ryou shot back, tear tracks on his cheeks. "How do you_ want _me to respond to this suffering that you have forced upon me!"

"I want you to get over it!" Bakura yelled in return angrily, hands balled into fists. Ryou froze, his mouth falling open as he stared at Bakura, with a look of shock, outrage, and intense anguish.

"I can_not_ simply 'get over it'!" He screamed in retaliation. "How could you even_ suggest _something so callous to me? _How!_" By this point, Ryou had slid off of the bed, regarding Bakura with intense, extreme anger. "You are the most sadistic person I have ever met! Where the _hell_ is your _soul?_" In his rare moments of pure fury, he had sworn at Bakura, who stared at Ryou in surprise, barely comprehending what he had heard.

"What the hell do you want me to do, Ryou!" Bakura shouted back at him. "Say sorry?"

"YES!" Ryou's voice was hoarse. "I want you to apologize for raping me! To claim I am your slave! I want you to say sorry that you tormented me!"

"I'm not going to say sorry!" Bakura yelled back. "Get that through your thick head, Ryou, honestly! And how _dare_ you speak to me like-"

"Like _what?_" Ryou was visibly shaking, his breathing little more than stuttered gasps. "I do _not_ deserve this! I-I have done nothing wrong!"

"I am _not_ seeking your forgiveness, Ryou." Bakura clamped his hands down on Ryou's shoulders, squeezing tightly.

"It is not like I can _ever_ forgive you!" Ryou felt drained, simply too cried out to keep his fighting spirit up. "_No one_ could forgive anybody for something so depraved. No one."

"I know." Bakura's teeth were tightly clenched, his nails digging painfully into Ryou's skin through his shirt. "_Trust_ me, I-"

"_Trust_ you?" Ryou tore himself free from Bakura, and stood back, an incredulous look on his face. "How can I _trust_ you, after all that you have done? Are you insane!"

"No." Bakura's hands were clenched into tight fists. "I'm perfectly sane. You're the one who refuses to-"

"To _what?_" Ryou's eyes stung. "To... To treat you like anything _other_ than my abuser? Than my-"

"Oh, for Christs' _sake_!" Bakura rolled his eyes. "That was _once-"_

"Twice!" Ryou shot back, trembling worse than ever. "And I-"

"Exactly!" Bakura cut over Ryou. "Just twice! Do you know how-"

"Just?" Ryou stalked towards Bakura, fury evident in his voice. "_Just?_ You _just_ ra-"

"I'm sick of hearing about this!" He grabbed at Ryou's wrist, his nails biting into the soft white skin. "I haven't done it since!"

"That does _not_ take the pain away!" A tear rolled down Ryou's cheek. "It does not make it _right_!"

"Do you _want_ me to hurt you again?" Ryou cried out as Bakura pushed him into the bed, and before he could move, crawl away, attempt to escape, Bakura was straddling his waist, weighing down heavily on his shoulders.

"No!" Ryou writhed anxiously in Bakura's grasp. "Let me _go!"_

"Then stop _talking_ about it!" Bakura's nose hovered close to Ryou's. "I swear, it's like it's-"

"It is what?" Ryou fought back sobs. "It is all that I see when I look at you? It is all that I think you are capable of? When have you _ever_ shown me _any_ kindness!"

"Your perception of kindness differs greatly from mine." Bakura's teeth were gritted. "I think I have-"

"No, you have _not_." Ryou sank into the mattress, eyes closed. "Please... Leave me." Bakura's shoulders slumped as he stared at Ryou, who wiped hurriedly at his eyes. He said nothing as he climbed off the bed, stomped across the room, and slammed the door. Ryou heard the lock turn as he buried his face in a pillow, trying desperately to stop his mad shaking. He didn't know what made him feel worse, the intense anger and fury he harboured towards Bakura at the time, or the sickening fear and anxiety.

Bakura was deluded, he had to be. When had he ever been _kind _to him? When?

* * *

"Ah, Mr Kaiba."

"Sir." Seto muttered stiffly, inclining his head in a slight bow. Behind him, a buzz of people resonated, the ship slowly being loaded with cargo. "Let me again extend my eternal gratitude for this extreme generosity-"

"Stop it, right there." A cold, steely tone overcame the mans' voice. "We are not to speak of this to anyone. As far as you are concerned, this is merely a military tour to France, a formality above all else."

"Yes, sir." Seto nodded again. "I shall alert my younger brother that that is what I am about to undertake."

"I am serious." Blackburn leaned in to scowl at Seto. "You cannot fathom my uncertainty here. Indeed, I am considering on cancelling our agreement-"

"And condemn a young man?" Seto leaned in to hiss at the naval officer. "Of English nobility? And lose the chance to deliver the captain of the famed Black Grail to the King in chains? I thought you higher, Sir."

"Do _not_ take that tone with me, boy." The man spat, his nose furrowed in a deep frown. "I know you have a very positive outlook and are confident of your potential victory, but nevertheless, I shall be sending one of my men to be joining you, just to make sure."

"... Who." Seto said suspiciously, and uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. The Naval Officer only raised an eyebrow.

"Well, he is here right now." He gestured towards a horse dawn carriage which had just pulled up beside the pair. "I hope you have met-"

"_No_." Seto froze as the footman pulled open the carriage door, and the last person Seto ever wanted to say stepped onto the cobblestones. _Atemu. Oh __**hell**__._ "You can_not_ be serious. That pompous _ass?_"

"No need to be rude." Blackburn gave Seto a firm look, then smiled widely as Atemu walked up to the pair. "Atemu, Seto Kaiba. Seto-"

"Yes, yes." Seto growled, narrowing his eyes at Atemu. _Precious Atemu, Son of the Governor of Egypt. Ugh, please kill me now. I can not bear to be on a ship for this man, not for so long, I shall end up murdering him..._ "We've met, haven't we?"

"Have indeed." Atemu bowed a little towards Seto, his deep, rich voice filling the air. "So, Seto, which one of your partners are we chasing to the end of the earth toda-"

"You _shut_ it!" Seto yelled at the Egyptian man, seething. "Ryou Cooper is _not_ like that! He is merely an old childhood friend, taken captive." He narrowed his eyes. "But if you want to talk about _partners,_ how exactly _is_ Yugi Mouto doing now-a-days?"

"You!" Atemu lunged at Seto angrily, only to be pulled back by a passing sailor, large and burly. "And get _off_ me, you cretin!"

"Now, now." Blackburn felt as though he was dealing with squabbling children. "You two cannot be fighting. You are to work together."

"You _must_ know what I feel about him!" Seto gestured wildly towards Atemu. "Was there no one else? Really?"

"You speak as though I want to be on this voyage." Atemu muttered.

"Atemu is the most skilled in strategy and logic, Mr. Kaiba." The aging man sighed wearily. "You know this. And if you want to try and take down the most notorious pirate ship in this part of the world, strategy and skill is what you need. The both of you will be sharing the captains' quarters on the upper deck, Atemu, I want daily reports written out, ready for when you return. And Seto." He took a very, very serious tone. "You understand what is on the line here. I am expecting you return with the crew of that ship in chains, and the gentleman in one piece. Any less, and I shall _personally_ make sure that your titles and status will be stripped and you will be expelled from the country. Are we clear on this?" A what little colour was left on Seto's cheeks drained.

"Yes sir." His voice cracked as he bowed his head.

* * *

"Do you have to go?"

Mai forced the most pleading look she could on her face as she stared at Joey. "I-I... I mean... You could sort summat out, or-"

"Mai, no." Joey sighed weakly taking the womans' hand and linking fingers with her. "I told ya. I gotta go..." The pair were walking along the docks, towards the area where Bakura's ship was docked. "We 'ave ta take off real soon, too.. 'M late..."

"And what do I do?" Mai slumped her shoulders. "Joey, I told you, soon, I won't be able to work... How do I get money?"

"I'll sort it." Joey promised. He'd stopped beside the ship, where Bakura was staring at him, leaning against the railings. "'Kay?"

"How?" Mai protested.

"I _will_." Joey sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair. "Look. We'll be comin' back in a month. I'll give ya lots of money then, righ'?"

"I-I..." Mai's hands rested on her stomach, expression despondent. "I-I don't have a choice do I?" Joey shook his head firmly, but the woman could see sympathy in his eyes. "But... You have to stay... Next time... Promise me."

"All righ'." Joey nodded. "Promise. I'll stay nex' time, kay?"

"Thank you." Mai sniffed, and engulfed Joey in a tight hug. "You.. I... Thanks..."

"If I don', you'd kill me." Joey smiled weakly. Mai sighed, and nodded, slightly.

"And... Sorry for this." The blonde wiped at her eyes. "I-I don't know what's wrong with me... I'm just crying over everything, all the time. It's driving me insane."

"Is it the... The baby?" Joey ventured a guess, his heart twisting as he uttered the noun for the first time. "I heard it makes 'em all weepy."

"Damn demon child." Mai gave a small smile. "Bakura's looking pissed off. I should go. You go get on the ship, okay?"

"Yep." Joey nodded, clasping Mai's wrist for the last time. "I'll see ya later, 'kay?"

"You better!" Mai called as Joey walked up the gangplank. "Or I'll hunt you down, Joey Wheeler! I promise!"

"Bye!" Joey waved at Mai over the railing, then sat down on a crate with a long sigh.

"You two seem to have made up." There was a shrewd look on Bakura's face, which deepened when he saw Mai walk away with her hands on her significantly swollen stomach.

"Yeah." Joey said off-handedly, but in his stomach, a small seed of fear started to grow. How was he going to tell Bakura that he had to leave?

"Mai looks well." Bakura analyzed Joey's features, searching for a response. "Why has she stopped wearing a corset?"

"... Oh." Joey swallowed. "I... She said she was gainin' weigh', they didn't fit no more."

"... Oh." Bakura arched an eyebrow. "I thought it might be because she was pregnant." Joey's head whipped towards Bakura, coffee-coloured eyes widening in fear. "I'm not stupid, Joey. She kept her hands on her stomach almost the entire time." He sighed. "Is it yours?"

"She says so." Joey muttered. "Dunno. Said she went ta see an Italian doctor an' he reckoned she caught it when we was together in Dover."

"Brilliant." Bakura scowled. "You're not gonna leave her, are you?"

"No!" Joey cried out in alarm. "Na, no way!"

"So you _do_ love her then." Bakura said thoughtfully. Joey's gaze lowered to his knees.

"I... I dunno." He heaved a sigh. "I... I wanna talk, jus' not now."

"Understandable." Bakura nodded. "Go get Malik. He's downstairs. Tell him we're ready to cast off."

Joey nodded, and got up with a long sigh.

* * *

"Are you all right?"

Bakura looked up to see Malik standing before him, offering a cup of water. "Thirsty?"

"Thanks." Bakura accepted the drink, and took a sip. Malik took a seat on the deck beside him, cross-legged.

"You don't look so good." Malik murmured squinting through the late afternoon sunlight. "What's wrong?"

"... Ryou." Bakura finally confessed, heaving a long sigh. "I... He hates me, Malik."

"No, he doesn't." Malik argued. "I'm sure he doesn't _hate_ you. He's just angry at you. Damn Bakura, do you blame him?"

"Of course I don't blame him." Bakura groaned, having another sip of the water. "But I just... I want him to be... It's stupid."

"It's not stupid." Malik said gently. "But Bakura, you do have to be empathetic towards him, you know, put yourself in his situation... I thought that you would understand that."

"Why." There was a hard tone in Bakura's voice. "Why would I _understand_ that?"

"It's just... I thought since you've-"

"Well, you thought wrong." Bakura's teeth were gritted. "I cannot, and _will _not put myself in his shoes."

"No... Oh, Bakura, no." Malik groaned as Bakura stood up with a sigh, and, letting the cup clatter to the floor, stalked off. "Shit." He sighed aloud, staring up at the clouds.

_Bakura does feel something for Ryou. He's emotionally attached to him._ Malik bit his lip, his head starting to ache. _This really isn't fair on either of them. I don't know what Bakura would do if he gets rejected like that again. Probably go insane and kill Ryou out of rage. Probably? Of course he will, it's Bakura that we're talking about. _

_I can't get Ryou get killed. I can't. I care about him too much. Bakura can't let this happen, I can't let it happen. But what can I do? It's not like I can go in there and order Ryou to pretend to love Bakura. His morals are too high for that. Perhaps, if I explained to him it was either that or die... But Ryou is no actor. Bakura would see right through him and then just feel offended._

_Maybe if I explained to Ryou, he could have a rethink about Bakura. He's got many good qualities in there, after all, and you don't have to dig too far to find him. If Bakura genuinely liked Ryou – which I am sure that he does – then he would actually treat Ryou really well. But of course, he would never admit it to himself, and Ryou would __**never**__ allow himself to be attracted to him..._

_Why is this so hard?_ Malik groaned. _They both have to be so stubborn. I can't play some sort of bizarre match-maker for them either. That's just stupid. I have to... God, I don't know..._

_Maybe I should keep my nose out of it, and my head down, just a sort of 'wait and see' thing. Who knows, maybe they will work it all out. _

_Or maybe they'll just go on making each other more and more upset until Bakura can't take it, and gets rid of him._

* * *

"Hey?"

"Oh, Malik." Ryou looked up from his book with a smile. "What brings you in here? Is dinner ready? I am starved."

"Actually, dinner won't be ready for ages." Malik sat the edge of the bed. "I wanted to talk, if that was all right."

"Um, sure?" Ryou folded a corner of the page of his book, which he set down. "What is it that is on your mind?"

"Well... It's sort of about Bakura." Malik bit his lip, waiting for Ryou's response.

"... Oh." Ryou's tone dropped, and he looked down. "... Malik, I really-"

"Ryou, please." Malik begged his hands clasped imploringly. "You have to listen to me. I haven't Bakura react like this about someone hating them."

"I don't hate him." Ryou protested. "I know I Should, but I just... I can't, for some reason. I don't know why, it's just so stupid..."

"I think you need to have a proper talk with Bakura." Malik said softly. "There's things about him that if you knew, then you would understand."

"I know about his upbringing." Ryou sighed. "How his family used to be rich and lost their money and he was homeless. He told me about that, Malik. I don't see what that really has to do with the cruelty he's showing me."

"Well, um, what about the captain?" Malik knew he was in _big_ trouble if he actually said anything, so instead, just probed Ryou's thoughts on it. "Did he tell you about him."

"Yeah, that he hired Bakura because he saw potential there, and later bequeathed the ship to him upon his deathbed. I do no-"

"Is _that_ what he told you?" Maliks' eyes widened in alarm. "Ryou, that's not how it went at all."

"What." Ryou frowned. "What do you mean? Why would he lie?"

"I... Ask him." Malik sighed. "Tonight, after he's been on the bottle. His tongue will be looser by then. I don't get it... why would he lie to you?"

"I don't know." Ryou sighed, before opening his book again. "But thank you Malik. I will most certainly enquire him about this tonight."

"Good." Malik nodded, then paused. "What are you reading, anyways?"

"This?" Ryou lowered the book a little. "Virgil's _Aeneid._ It's actually rather good. I didn't like the _Iliad_ much, so it's a pleasant surprise."

"What _language_ is it in?" Malik's eyes widened.

"Well, this one is actually in Latin." Ryou admitted. "Because it's a poem, it reads much, much better in Latin than a translation."

"You know Latin?" Malik was impressed. Ryou nodded. "So... How many languages do you actually know?"

"Hmm..." Ryou closed the book. "Just English, French, Latin, Dutch, and a little German and Spanish."

"_Just?_" Malik said weakly. "How on earth did you learn all that? Wouldn't your brain sort of, Explode?"

"Not really." Ryou smiled. "I learned them all at a very young age. I was only supposed to learn French and Latin, but my tutor thought I was so quick-witted he gave me others as well. It's very common for children of the peerage to be fluent in many languages."

"I only know Arabic and English." Malik murmured glumly. "And a little ancient Egyptian. But just ceremonial stuff. You're lucky."

"I suppose." Ryou shrugged. "But I don't know any Arabic at all. I've always wanted to learn an exotic language."

"Why?" Malik sighed. "No one ever speaks it. I haven't actually heard a word of Arabic in years. I've probably forgotten it all."

"If it's the language that you grew up with, then you will remember." Ryou said. "Trust me. When I visited distant relatives in Holland for several months while I was eight, I felt as though I could only speak Dutch. But when I returned to England, I was perfectly fluent."

"It's just not exactly a popular language." Malik frowned. "I'd probably feel better if I could write it... Not that I have anyone to write to..."

"Y-you can not read and write?" Ryou was surprised. Malik nodded quite sadly. "You were never taught?"

"I learned everything by speaking." The Egyptian explained.

"O-Oh..." Ryou looked down with a frown. "Well... Perhaps I can teach you in English." He suggested with a small smile. "I can understand if you do not want to, but-"

"No, that sounds good!" Malik cut over Ryou eagerly. "But... Do you think I can learn?"

"Well, unless you are a complete idiot, and I am sure that you are not, then yes, I quite believe that you are capable of being literate."

"... Thank you Ryou." Malik smiled widely. "No one has ever offered to teach me my letters before. Not even Bakura, and he knows I can't read or write."

"He is a very busy man." Ryou pointed out. "He probably cannot make the time to."

"Listen to you, defending him." Malik chuckled. "That's cute." Ryou merely sighed, and returned to his book. "All right, I'll tell you when dinner's ready."

"All right." Ryou nodded. "I just want to read until the end of this chapter." Malik nodded, and shut the door. Ryou settled himself back down amongst the pillows, his eyes racing back to the printed text at hand.

_Tum vero ancipiti mentem formidine pressus obstipui, steteruntque comae et vox faucibus haesit..._

* * *

Awwwwh. Malik/Ryou fluff gives me nice fuzzies inside xD

ANYWAYS, R&R?


	19. Chapter 19

Yay! Updatedness! And it's about bloody time, too -.-

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

"Malik... Where is it that we are going?"

"Somewhere private." Ryou stopped, and shot Malik a look. "Not like _that_." He rolled his eyes. "I meant private as in where you can teach me to write."

"... Oh!" Ryou brightened considerably as he was led past the kitchens, and into a long, dark passageway. "I... Oooh, it is so spooky down here..."

"Not if you get used to it." Malik grabbed a lantern that hung from the wall, and held it out in front of him, Ryou clinging to his wrist. "Most of the storage deck and quarters are down here. Didn't you get a tour?" Ryou shook his head, glad for his boots on the grimy floorboards. "Oh!" Malik backed up a couple of steps. "Well, this is where everything is at." He indicated at the first closed door. "This is where our water is stored in casks. It's all stopped up so if something _does_ spring a leak, then at least some of the water can be saved." Ryou nodded, fascinated. He'd been on a couple of ships before, but never below deck, never into the deep bowels of the boat. "There's two levels below deck. This little one up here, and the big storage area downstairs." Ryou nodded. "Okay. This door on the left..." He indicated the open doorway, where several candles and lanterns were lit. The room was filled with raucous laughter. "Is where the crew and I sleep. Nothing interesting, it's just bunks. You're spoiled, Ryou." He shot the teenager a smile, and Ryou blushed. "Um, this one across here is the cells." He pushed open the door, exposing an uncomfortable cavern of blackness. "But there's no one in here." He shut the door roughly, and made his way down the hall. It appeared there were no more rooms, save for the large door at the end, which presumably led to the very bottom, and a small door on the right, which was nicely carved. There was a heavy lock on the door. "But I have a key." Malik smiled and extracted the small bronze key from his pocket, which he jammed into the lock, and turned.

"Hey!" Ryou blinked as Malik held the lantern out in front of himself, exposing the contents of the room. "I have been in here before!"

"I thought you had." Malik frowned. "When Bakura needed your help identifying that stuff, right?"

"Yes..." Ryou muttered, his tone turning bitter. "My things, which he just flicked off for a pittance..."

"... I'm sorry." Malik shrugged helplessly. "Really, I am. I don't know what else to say, I'm sorry..."

"Do not be sorry." Ryou smiled weakly. "It is hardly your fault." He followed Malik as he walked to the desk, and set the lantern down.

"Bakura has a quill and paper here." Malik explained, pulling out the chair for Ryou. "Pretty much the only place on the ship."

"You sit." Malik nodded with a shrug, and pulled open one of the drawers. "It will be easier to teach you."

"All right." Malik lay down the quill and unscrewed the small ink bottle carefully. He had found a few large scraps of paper, that contained a few calculations crossed out in the corner. It was enough. "Um... So... Now what?"

"I..." Ryou paused, standing beside Malik. "Do not know... Move a little, please?" Malik nodded, and scooted a little along the chair, letting Ryou take a seat beside him, the whitenette perching on the side of the chair. "All right. I suppose it is best to start with the alphabet." He mused, while Malik gave Ryou an eager nod. "All right." He repeated, picking up the black-feathered quill, and examining the point. It appeared sharp enough. "So... You know the whole ABC thing, right?"

"Yep." Malik nodded. "Can't read them, but I know what they're about."

"Good." Ryou bit his lip, printing the lower-case letters along the page, simple block letters, without the cursive. That was far too hard to begin with; he learned that the hard way when he was four. "a, b, c, d, e, f. We can do them six at a time, then see how we go."

"Right." Malik blinked as Ryou finished the spaced line of text, and set the quill down on the parchment. "... Now what?"

"You write them silly!" Ryou grinned. "Copy it out beneath, as best as you can. Don't worry if it looks a little off."

"Errr... All right." Malik picked up the quill, letting out a very long breath. He was, to say the least, extremely nervous. He pressed the nib of the quill against the parchment – not too hard, lest the point break- and drew a slightly wobbly semi-circle for the 'a', which he then joined with a small vertical line.

"That is good." Ryou smiled encouragingly, earning an eye-roll from the blonde. "What is it?"

"It's _not._" He sighed, looking down at his clumsy attempt in distaste. "Look, it looks like a four year old drew it."

"You should have seen _my_ first attempts to write." Ryou tried to console the Egyptian. "I actually was four... It was absolutely hideous. And my tutor got angry and smacked me across the face with a ruler... I had a red mark for days, and mother was so furious she dismissed him..." The whitenette briefly touched his cheek, then shook his head. "Look." He steered his discussion back on point. "Do not be disheartened if it is not perfect on the first attempt. It is near impossible for it to be."

"... I suppose." Maliks' shoulders were still slumped. But what did he expect? Instant perfection? "But... I don't think I can do this..."

"Yes, you can!" Ryou's hand lingered on Maliks' shoulder. "Please, keep going." Malik nodded after a long moment, and then replaced his quill to the parchment. He bit lightly down on the tip of his tongue, painstakingly repeating the letter 'b' directly above his own rudimentary attempt. "See? A little shaky, but what is wrong with that, hm?"

"... I suppose." Malik forced a weak smile, despite still being disappointed with himself. "Pretty shitty, but it is a first attempt..."

"Exactly." Ryou sounded almost pleading. "Do not be angry with yourself." Malik looked up from the parchment to Ryou's face, the candlelight throwing shadows around his face, flushing his skin a soft golden.

"All right." Malik's face dissolved into a small, but genuine smile. "I won't."

* * *

Ryou looked up from the _Aeneid_ as Bakura slammed the door behind him, which he then leaned against, emitting a long sigh.

"What is the problem?" Ryou inquired, pressing a finger against the text to mark his place. Bakura muttered something Ryou couldn't hear, before stomping across the room, and collapsing on the bed, boots and all, face down and spread eagled. "What was that? I didn't quite hear it."

"I _said_." Bakura lifted his head a little, half-glaring at Ryou. "I drank a bit much. Fucking Joey and his stupid insecurities..."

"Whatever do you mean?" Ryou closed the book, a frown on his face. Joey? Insecurities? _I have never seen it to be possible, not with the way he treats me..._

"His 'girlfriend'." Bakura rolled over onto his side, staring at Ryou with slightly bloodshot eyes. "Mai. God, she can be such a fucking _slut-_"

"_Bakura!_" Ryou's eyes widened, outraged. "How dare you speak ill of a woman in such a way? She never-"

"Look in your bible." Bakura groaned. "She got knocked up before marriage, for starters. What else is she called? And to fucking _Joey_."

"No." Ryou gasped. "He is going to be a father?"

"Yep." Bakura sighed deeply, sounding a little sad. "He can say what he likes, but I know where his heart lies. When we come back here in a few months, he'll stay in London with her. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later."

"What, the issues with Mai?" Ryou set his book down on the bedside table, turning a little to face Bakura.

"Not just her." Bakura muttered. "The whole missus and kids' thing. Like now. He says he doesn't really want anything to do with her, but I can tell he's excited to be a father. He wants to settle down with her and start a proper family."

"You sound a little wistful." Ryou noted thoughtfully, watching as Bakura rubbed at his eyes for a moment. "No?"

"I'll never get married and have kids, if that's what you mean." Bakura chose to look at the ceiling rather than Ryou.

"And why not?" Ryou tilted his head, waiting for an answer.

"Uh, because I don't really like women that much?" Bakura rolled his eyes. "I mean, sure, they're good for a lay, but I just don't connect with them emotionally. Most of the crew just thing I have some kink or something and like both men and women, but the truth really is..." Bakura screwed up his face, and sighed. "I don't. I just... don't feel anything for them. Not like-"

"All right!" Ryou squeaked, his cheeks flushing. "But... Wow. I thought you liked both... It may be frowned upon, but is not entirely uncommon."

"Someone's been reading up on their Greek Literature." Bakura smiled. "What, so you think I have this pederastic fetish with you?"

"W-Well... I don't know." Ryou looked down at his hands. "But recently, you have sought for emotional rather than sexual gratification... You cannot say that that is not strange."

"All right, you got me." Bakura hid a smile. "You see, my mother never loved me enough, and my father was disgusted by me, so I hid the cruel reality by consistently reading. As I grew more mature, I felt unsatisfied with the contemporary, predominantly religious works of narrative and sought satisfaction with classical philosophy and literature. Once I discovered the concept of pederasty, I was filled with an intense desire to apply it to myself."

"_Really?"_ Ryou sat up straight, wide-eyed.

"No, not really." Bakura snorted, shaking his head. "Idiot. I just don't like women. They get overly emotional, they always have to be right, most are cheap and sluttish, they care far too much about how they look, they're so fucking _demanding-"_

_"_A-All right!" Ryou held up his hands in defense. "I understand you are not overly fond of women. But... You must have not met any nice girls, because not all are in that frame of mind."

"Most are." Bakura sighed. "Look, I don't even care. I just like boys better. I think they're cute. And easier to talk to. And more responsive, if you get me."

"I-I most certainly do." Ryou's cheeks flushed again. "But... You never answered my question. Why are you looking to establish an emotional bond with me?"

"Why do you think?" Bakura forced himself into a sitting position. He was drunk, Ryou could tell. His cheeks were quite dark, flushed with alcohol, and his eyes were unfocused. "I like you, stupid."

"Y-You... like me?" Ryou repeated questioningly, not understanding. "I... How?"

"How?" Bakura rolled his eyes. "You _can't_ be that humble and thick. Look at yourself! You're gorgeous. And articulate. And gentle. And you have such a fire in you." While he rattled off the list, Bakura slowly crawled closer to Ryou, until they were very close together, their noses inches apart. "How can I _not_ be attracted to you?"

"I-I..." Ryou swallowed, his mouth dry. "P-Please, I-I c-cannot-"

"Shhhh..." Ryou's eyes widened as Bakura placed a finger on his lips. "Please. Just hush. For once, just relax for me. I promise I won't hurt you again."

"I-I cannot." Ryou repeated again, dipping his head. "You do not understand... I cannot just forget... And I cannot allow myself to take pleasure from any of this..."

"Ryou." There was a bite to Bakura's voice, he could hear it. "Please. No more. I just want you to-"

"On one condition." Ryou cut in, realising the excellent position that he had been put in. "I am going to ask you just one question, and you must answer correctly."

"And if I do?" Bakura raised an eyebrow, interested by this new game.

"Do with me what you will." Ryou couldn't look the man in the eye. "Within limits."

"I _see."_ Bakura smiled, looming in ever closer to the teenager. "So? What was it you were to ask me? Go right ahead." As he spoke, Ryou noticed, he placed a hand on Ryou's thigh, over the material of his nightshirt, but still enough to send a slight tingle down his spine.

"U-Um..." Ryou paused a moment, then sighed deeply. "I wanted to ask you..." He locked eyed with Bakura, steeling himself for a possible backlash. "How did you become captain of this ship?" Bakura's hand tightened, froze on Ryou's leg, and he drew back, eyes widening. "Bakura?"

"... You've been speaking to Malik." He growled, a smouldering expression on his face. Ryou stared straight ahead, his face impassive, saying nothing. _I might as well tell him. I get something out of it after all. And who knows, he might become a little sympathetic._ And besides, his wits were dull, and addled. He wasn't thinking entirely clearly, and Ryou, fully aware of this fact, had exploited it expertly. "Oh well, I suppose." Bakura cleared his throat, unsure of how far he should go. He wanted to go. "There was a mutiny about seven, eight years ago. Joey and I overthrew the captain and his select favourites single-handedly. With help from a few in the crew, of course."

"Why?" Ryou inquired breathlessly, eyes wide.

"Oh, because." Bakura rubbed at an itchy eye. "He was a cruel captain. None of the crew ever got any real wages. He claimed food and ship maintenance took it all up. And he was pretty useless as a leader. He ruled by fear, and not respect. And he was-" Something caught in Bakura's throat, and he swallowed hard. "He was a sick, disgusting man."

"What did he do to you." Ryou sat up a little straighter, recognition beginning to dawn on his face.

"What?" Bakura frowned at the teenager. "What do you mean?"

"You said you were fourteen when you came here. You would have been far too young to fight him off. Did he beat you?" Bakura had shifted by this point, and sat on the edge of the bed, his hands folded in his lap. Worried, Ryou crawled across the mattress, and reached out to Bakura. "Bakura?"

"We'd been away from land for weeks and weeks." There was a rushed, hurried vibe to Bakura's monotonous voice. It was as though he didn't want to utter those words, as though he was rushing past to get it all finished. "No fresh food, no women, no clean water... It was getting to everybody. I was still fourteen, my fifteenth birthday was oh, about a month or two away." Bakura's heart thudded in his chest. He hadn't told anyone about this, save for Malik, who only had a vague idea and a suspicion. "He'd been drinking all day, to try and get rid of his thirst. And I think he'd had a little sea water as well. He had that funny look in his eye." Ryou sat perfectly still, waiting to hear the rest of the story. "It was night. I was on night watch, and I kept drifting off... exhaustion, mainly. Anyways, the captain comes up from below deck, all stumbling and drunken. I mean, he was really off his face drunk. I tried to help him... I think I offended him, or something. But it set it off."

"Maybe it was the hair." Bakura's hands were trembling a little in his lap. "I'd kept it long, you know how fashion is in the upper class. And I never had the guts to cut it off. I mean, it was halfway down my back, took my entire life to grow it..."

"I'm off-topic." Bakura shook his head. "Anyway. He started yelling at me that I should shut up and just do my duties. And then he has a stab at me being useless, because I was finding constant heavy labour hard, like you did. And he kept repeating everything at me, over and over..."

"Then he pushed me to the ground. No deal, I make to get up, then all of a sudden, he's on top of me, with his hands on my shoulders. I try to push him off, but he was just too damn big and strong, and then he told me to shut up and quit my yelling and held his hand down over my mouth and..." Bakura let out a long, shuddering breath, his hands in clenched fists. Ryou stared at Bakura in shock, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

"It was because he was so drunk. And desperate. I mean, it had been weeks. And this was the man who bedded countless women, at every opportunity. He just jumped at what he saw as a chance. Mind, my small size and frigging girly hair wouldn't have helped..."

"Bakura..." Ryou's voice trembled as he rested a hand on Bakura's shoulder. "I-I am so very sorry..."

"Don't be sorry." Bakura wrenched his shoulder away from Ryou. "It's not your fault now, is it?"

"N-No, but-"

"Take your clothes off and get under the covers." Bakura changed the point of conversation abruptly, and bent down to unlace his boots. "I thought we had a deal." The captain demanded, after a moment of silence, where Ryou didn't move.

"O-Oh..." Ryou didn't question Bakura as he pulled his nightshirt over his head, and climbed underneath the covers. He was still having what had been told to him whirling around in his mind, and was unable to focus on anything else. Besides, he had made his boundaries quite clear. Ryou pulled the blankets up to his chin, watching as Bakura pulled off his shirt, and the pants, his hands still shaking a little.

"It was thirteen years ago." Bakura muttered, climbing under the blankets. "It's behind me now. He only did it once, so no harm. Really." Ryou froze as Bakura scooted towards him underneath the covers.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Ryou gasped, as Bakura wrapped his arms around his bony shoulders. "Bakura!"

"Oh, nothing." The man rolled his eyes, and pressed himself closer to Ryou, who was incredibly tense. "Just relax, okay?"

"W-What are you planning on doing to me?" The panic was evident in Ryou's voice.

"Nothing." Bakura sighed, lightly brushing his lips along the juncture of Ryou's neck. "I'm just enjoying a little close contact. Don't you find it... Soothing?"

"This?" Ryou asked back in alarm, his breath hitching as Bakura placed a hand on his hip. "I..."

"I'm not trying to pull any moves out on you." Bakura spoke with a strong, steady tone, so unlike what Ryou had just heard before from him. "I swear."

"... All right." Despite his greater conscience, Ryou paid no heed to his internal objections, and closed his eyes, allowing his tense muscles to relax onto the mattress, and Bakura's hands.

"There." Bakura smiled, one arm thrown loosely around Ryou's middle.

"Bakura." Ryou looked up, into the eyes of the man who was so close to him. "I... I want to ask you some more questions about that."

"...All right." Bakura nodded after a long pause, trying to relax into the bed. It actually bothered him a lot more than he let on.

"Well... Um... After it happened... Were you like me?" Ryou asked, feeling a little uncomfortable. "I mean, I was in shock, and then moped around for days..."

"Are you serious? I was completely inconsolable." Bakura responded in quite a soft tone. "I felt so incredibly violated. After that, I refused to be alone in a room with him, ever, and I never let him get anywhere near me. Sad thing is, I don't think he fully remembered what he did. He was completely trashed. And if he did remember, he sure as hell didn't ever mention it again."

"I am so sorry." Ryou murmured again, deep in thought. As strange as it might seem, it actually explained a lot. _But there still is so much I do not understand..._

"Look, don't be." Bakura said gruffly, his grip on Ryou tightening just a little. "It's all in the past. I'm over it now."

"No." Ryou argued, rolling over onto his side, away from Bakura."It is not something that you merely 'get over'. I-I feel as though those memories will haunt my life forever... A small part of me... Felt as though it died."

"I-I..." Bakura swallowed. He was about to say he was sorry, when he realised that he actually wasn't. He genuinely believed that he had every right to do what he did, given the circumstances. It look several moments for Bakura to realise that Ryou was crying, the blankets pulled up to his nose, and face turned away. "Ryou..."

"I-I want my mother." Ryou managed to force out, blinking desperately. Bakura sighed, and slowly sat up, raking his fingers through his hair. "I-I miss her..."

"Christ." Bakura leaned against the headboard. "You want me to say sorry, don't you?"

"You did not kill her." Ryou murmured in his tiny, broken voice.

"But it's my fault, right?" Bakura's arms were at his side, palms on the blankets. "I mean, I ordered the attack on the town. I wanted a pretty young thing like you. I-"

"Stop!" Ryou sat up, turning on the pirate captain! "Just stop it!"

"Ryou-"

"Please!" Ryou pushed the bedcovers aside, and crouched down, grabbing his shirt and breeches with shaking hands. "Y-You do not have to _say_ it like that." Dressed, Ryou stood up, and stomped out of the room, furious.

"Hey!" Bakura growled, making to get up. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Outside." Was the response, followed by a slammed door. Ryou made it a few steps, before collapsing on the salt-stained planks, knees and palms on the deck.

_Stop crying._ He commanded himself, trying to swallow back the lump in his throat. At the moment, it was just a few tears, but he knew that a flood of sobs were just around the corner.

_I cannot deal with this. It is impossible for me to cope with all of this. I have lost my home, my belongings, my freedom, my innocence... And he expects me to put him first? To 'get over it'? How can he say that to me?_ _How can he be so cold?_

"Ryou."

If the teenager heard him, he didn't show it. Wincing in the cold, late-night sea air, Bakura drew his magnificent red coat tighter around himself, teeth slightly chattering. Ryou must be freezing.

"Are... Are you all right?" He asked quite awkwardly, his hands in his pockets, quite uncomfortably. Ryou sniffed, but made no other noise. "Look. I am sorry."

"Sure." Ryou sounded quite sullen, as he wipes hurriedly at his eyes.

"I am." Bakura walked towards, and then around Ryou, crouching on the floor boards, right in front of the shaking teenager.

"Why are you so cold." Ryou's voice trembled, on the verge of a breakdown. "You went through similar traumatic events to me... H-How can you not feel sympathy?"

"Because." Bakura sighed, after a long pause. "It is because I went through that." Bakura's heart thudded in his chest – he felt as though he was pushing at vast gate. It was subconscious, but never something he admitted to himself. He felt as though it some sort of lame excuse for his actions. "I had to grow up so fast... Running away from home, and then working on this ship... You can't show fear, Ryou. Or sorrow. Or... Any emotions. It becomes a weakness, something you can be ridiculed for. You have to be cold and hard and strong. And... Being that way for thirteen years, has had a devastating effect on me. God, you don't know how much I _wish_ I could be sad and sorrowful. And it's not the fact that I'm not allowed to... I feel as though I don't know how anymore. All of those emotions... I've had to push away, and force down. All those precious teenage years, where you're supposed to mature gradually and develop your strength of character and sense of emotion, were just entirely screwed up. And I know that is no excuse for what I've done to you. And I can't even apologize, because I wouldn't be genuine. And I feel like shit for that. And you know what the sad thing is?"

"... What." Ryou looked up from the ground, to Bakura's eyes, looking like two black coals against his pale skin, illuminated in the moonlight. He knew he looked the same.

"I get angry with people, like you, who I take and forcibly make mine, because they refuse to love me. I mean, I can't even build a fucking relationship properly. I'm messed up. Really messed up." Bakura slowly stood up, arching his back a little in a stretch. "I'm going to bed. It's been a long day. Are you coming yet?"

"No." Ryou's legs were folded against his chest, his chin resting on his knees as he stared vaguely in front of him. "I... I just need to think."

"... All right." Bakura stared down at the little teen, biting his lip as he watched Ryou shiver in the moonlight. After a moments' pause, he shrugged off his velvety red coat, and bent down, placing it around Ryou's slender shoulders. "Don't be out too late." He almost patted his head, but thought against it. It was just a little instinct he had. _How strange._

"All right." Ryou waited until Bakura was gone before threading his arms through the coat, and standing up with a slight wince. He padded silently across the deck in bare feet, to the freshly painted railing, resting his hands against it. The lump in his throat was gone, his eyes red-rimmed, but dry. Strange, how Bakura managed to calm him down and stave off his miniature breakdown.

_I was not aware that he felt quite like that._ Ryou bit his lip, staring down at the ocean, the way the moonlight shimmered on it. _He was so open and personal with me. What does that mean? What is he planning? He must have some sort of secret, hidden agenda. Why else would he do this? It makes no sense at all, the manner in which he is acting._

_But, all that aside, _Ryou closed his eyes, mind whirling. _What he has said... Has made me feel..._

_... Sorry for him._

* * *

Gaaaahhhh. SO sorry that was late and stuffs. I was having issues wth the second half of the chapter (Isn't it obvious? -.-)

Anyways, R&R?


	20. Chapter 20

Yay! An update! Yes, I know I should be on study, but there was like, so little left of this chapter, I thought what the hey?

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

_"Annam, cara mihi nutrix, huc siste sororem: dic corpus properet fluuiali spargere lympha-" _

"Oh, this is such a sad part."

"Ah!" Ryou jumped up, his quiet mumbling broken by Bakura's surprise entrance. "... Pardon?"

"Dido just asked Anna to build a funeral pyre to burn the Trojan relics, no?" Bakura said easily as he walked across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Then Dido goes all tragic heroine and commits suicide, if I remember correctly..."

"You... Know Latin?" Ryou's eyes widened further. "Y-You know the _Aeneid?_"

"I had one of the best educations in England, Ryou." Bakura rolled his eyes. "Fourteen years isn't long enough for me to forget all of my aristocratic learning."

"... Oh." Ryou said softly, eyes downcast. "I... Did forget. Well, you certainly don't act like it..."

"Of course I'm not going to act like it." Bakura muttered. "If my crew knew the kind of upbringing I had, I would get no respect. Only Malik and Joey have any idea about my childhood, and they don't know as much as you."

"... _Oh."_ Ryou sighed, and set the book down. He leaned against the pillows, unable to look at Bakura. The night before, he had waited for almost two hours, until he was sure Bakura was asleep, before crawling back into bed. But Bakura had feigned sleep, and through slitted eyes, watched and heard Ryou climb into bed, sniffling a little. And in the morning, when Bakura roused, Ryou pretended to be in a deep slumber. Bakura had leaned over him, for a few seconds, as though he were about to say something, before sighing in disgust, and standing up. Ryou wondered if his false sleep had worked – Something told him Bakura knew it was just a ploy to avoid further conflict.

"... Yeah." Bakura looked down at his hands, also unsure of what to say. "So... Are you gonna come get something to eat? You must be hungry..."

"No, thank you." Ryou said politely, frostily. "I shall be fine at the moment."

"... All right." Bakura sighed, and stood up, turning away from Ryou. "Whatever."

"Yes." Ryou's teeth were slightly gritted. "Oh, and Bakura?"

"Hm?" The man paused in the doorway, and turned, his heart lifting a little in hope. He didn't want Ryou to be cold towards him in the slightest.

"Thank you for spoiling the ending." Ryou muttered, then turned his attention back to his book. Bakura turned, and slammed the door with a force that made the walls shake. On the outside, he leaned against the wood panelling, wanting to scream at Ryou, hit him, kick the door down... He was so _frustrated_ with himself, and Ryou.

On the other side, feeling faintly sick with guilt, Ryou sniffed, as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

* * *

"Look who finally decided to show..."

"I was reading, you pompous ass." Seto snarled as he pulled out his chair, taking a seat. "Not that your heathen mind could comprehend the finer points of-"

"Oh, just shut up." Atemu cut Seto off nastily, growing sick and tired of the brunette after just a couple of days. "I'm just as educated as you are." He turned his attention back to the maps at hand, which were lit up by morning sunbeams in the comfy room.

"How is progress?" Seto asked, watching as Atemu pushed a map towards him. "We doing any better?"

"We made up a lot of ground, rowing in the weak wind last night." Atemu reported. "And the wind is good. If we keep up at the pace we are at, no doubt we would have reached them by mid-afternoon."

"Good, good." Set said vaguely, staring down at the map. "Have you figured out the course that they are taking as of yet?"

"A little." Atemu lightly touched the map. "This is where we are." He pointed to a space in the sea along the south-eastern Scottish Coast. "Surprisingly, they're heading north, and going around Britain, before heading to Spain. Can't imagine why..."

"Pick up some Irish muscle?" Seto suggested. "Belfast is common ground of strong labouring men. He might be picking up more members of his crew before heading to Spain."

"Hm." Atemu said thoughtfully. "I do not like it at all. Perhaps he knows we are following him?"

"No." Seto shook his head. "There is no indication that would suggest that. If that were the case, he would be heading in a completely different direction probably towards Germany or Holland, to throw us off."

"Perhaps." Atemu stared at the map. "But we must be on our guard, and take the offensive here. If we want to take down the Grail, then we must never let anything slip. I suggest we change our course south, and meet him on the west English coast. This route is-"

"Are you doubting me?" Seto challenged, leaning forward over the table a little. "Are you suggesting that I do not know what I am doing here?"

"No." Atemu said quite coolly. "I was merely suggesting-"

"Well, you and your 'suggestions' can go to hell." Seto spat. "This is _my_ ship here, and the crew follow _my_ orders, you included." He thumped his fists on the table as he stood up, shooting a death glare at Atemu. "We keep onto our course." And with that, he stood up, and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Atemu sighed, and raked his fingers through his hair.

"You're making a big mistake." He warned to the otherwise empty room.

* * *

"What do you want from me?"

Ryou jumped as Bakura marched into the room not fifteen minutes later, seething with anger.

"What-"

"You heard!" Bakura screamed. "I don't understand! I don't fucking understand! I have done _everything_ for you! I poured my heart out to you! I told you my darkest memories! I bought you those bloody books! I treated you well! What else do you _want_ Ryou? What is it going to take?" Ryou had backed up against the bed, until his back was pressed against the headboard, eyes wide with fright.

"I-I..." Ryou shook his head, unable to completely comprehend. "What... What do _you_ want? Companionship, Love? S-Sex? It's as though you are trying to find all three things in me, Bakura! I cannot handle this!"

"What do I have to do?" Bakura repeated, climbing onto the bed. "What the hell do I have to do, Ryou!"

"There is nothing you _can_ do!" Ryou shouted in return, hands shaking. "Bakura, I-" He broke off, slowly setting his head in his hands. Realising his inner turmoil, Bakura hung back, sitting on his rear as he watched Ryou rest his chin on clasped hands, still quivering. "You are... Amazing." He started in a low, trembling voice. "You are well-read, scholarly, handsome, brave, a gentleman..." Ryou have a shuddering sigh. "If I... If I loved men, in an intimate manner, then, judged on those qualities, I would probably be with you, but..." Ryou shook his head. "What you have done to me, everything you have put me through... You abused and raped me. I cannot, ever, forgive that. There's... Just no way..." Bakura sighed as he watched Ryou, who rubbed at his moistening eyes, trying so hard to keep his composure. "You cannot expect me to... You cannot!"

Bakura stood up, slowly, not looking at Ryou. The glimpse the teenager caught of his face, however, showed his emotion. He looked disappointed, beyond words. He looked almost as if he had shrunken inside that magnificent red coat. Ryou watched, blinking rapidly, as Bakura walked around the bed, and towards the window, which he stared out of thoughtfully with his hands behind his back for a long second.

"What I think is the saddest part." Bakura sighed, head slightly bowed. "Is how I think I'm falling for you." Ryou's eyes widened, and he watched, silently, as Bakura walked out of the room, making no sound other than the thud of his footsteps on the floorboards, until he shut the door, quietly.

Ryou have a long, shuddering sigh, then collapsed on the bed, pressing his face into a pillow. _He loves me. Oh no, he loves me. How can this be happening? How can... What did I do? Is it just me? I... I do not know anymore... How can this happen? It is so messed up..._

Ryou groaned, and rolled over on the bed, onto his back, his heart thudding. Bakura admitted that he loved him. That was... terrifying. How can Ryou say no to that? If he rejected Bakura, he could be so angry...

_He knows how I feel._ Ryou sighed. _About him. Well, if he did not then, he does now. I like him, I do. I think he is a very charming person and very nice to talk to, at times, but when I look in his eyes, all I can think about what what he did to me, that night, how those same eyes had this strangest glint in them... Like he was a different person. I know Bakura is not insane, I cannot use that as some sort of excuse. He is perfectly sane. A little emotionally damaged, but how can he not be, after what he went through? But I do not understand. If he has experienced it, then why does he inflict rape on others? Is it his way of dealing with the pain? I could never hurt anyone in that manner, I could not bring myself to inflict something like that which I know would hurt dearly. Perhaps it is just in his nature. Perhaps the past years have twisted him._

_Then perhaps I could set him right again._ The thought sparked in Ryou's head. _If he learned softness and compassion, then perhaps he could become a better person. But he would not. Not while he was the captain of this ship. He said himself. It is his stupid pride and vanity. Why would he ever listen to me?_

_But he said that he loved me. Then perhaps he would listen to me. But what would I say to him? He would call me demanding, would he not?_

_As a person, he only has a couple of significant flaws. And I am sure that he finds me irritating at times. I cry too much and I have no backbone. And yet he..._

_Why am I thinking like this? _Ryou shook his head, and sat up. He climbed down off the bed slowly, and crossed the luxuriously-decorated room to the window. Ryou pressed his palms against the glass, staring at the gently rolling ocean. It was about lunchtime, judging by the position of the sun and the slight ache in his stomach. Ryou pulled on his shoes, and rest of his clothes, before leaving the room, with the _Aeneid_ still open on the bed, and standing on the deck.

"Afternoon Ryou." Malik beamed cheerfully, leaning slightly on the mop. "Why do you look so down?"

"Oh, hello Malik." Ryou sighed, taking a seat on a large crate near the Egyptian. "I just... I am very confused right now."

"Why?" Malik cocked his head to one side questioningly. "You look really deep in thought."

"I..." Ryou swallowed, and then tried again. "It's Bakura." He admitted, looking down at his hands.

"What?" Malik frowned. "What has he done this time?" Ryou rubbed at his eyes, his head still whirling more than a little.

"He... He said he loves me." Ryou said quietly, his shoulders hunched, looking down at his hands. Malik's eyes widened, but he said nothing. "He sounded... Sad."

"... Oh." It was all Malk could say. "Do you... You don't feel the same, do you?"

"Of course not!" Ryou responded vehemently. "I do not feel any such feelings for him. You know how I feel about males, I... And besides!" He added, shaking his head. "After what he has done to me, I could never..."

"You're justifying yourself an awful lot." Malik commented, an eyebrow raised. "Why don't you look, really look, deep in your heart, so you can see how you really feel about him?"

"I do not love him." Ryou protested, although Malik thought his tone sounded a little weaker.

"You don't have to be romantically involved." Malik pointed out. "Do you like him as a person? Do you think you could even just be friends?"

"Friends do not do what he did." Ryou protested. "He-"

"Ryou, put that aside for a moment." Malik sighed. "Please. Don't you sometimes feel happy with him?"

"... Maybe." Ryou muttered, looking down. "But what is the point?"

"The point is, you are miserable." Malik argued. "And so is Bakura. I see it in his eyes. He's lonely. If you two are together, you would both be happy."

"So you are attempting to set us up together?" Ryou shook his head. "It is not going to happen, Malik. I do not feel like that towards him at _all_. Don't you understand?"

"Ryou-"

"I am going to find something to eat." Ryou cut the blonde off, before standing up, and crossing the main deck. He walked slowly down the steps, keeping his eyes down, struggling to squint through the gloom, until he entered the tiny grimy kitchen, looking hopefully up at Devlin, who was still scrubbing at the lunchtime dishes.

"What do you want?" Devlin muttered without looking up, trying to shift a lump of gravy. "Hm?"

"O-Oh... I am sorry." Ryou shuffled his feet. "I was just wondering if there was any food left over..."

"Missed out, huh?" Devlin looked up from the dishes, and over to Ryou, who nodded, appearing downcast. "Why should I give you some, hm?"

"I-I did not get any breakfast..." Ryou murmured quietly, his shoulders slumped. "Please... If you could just spare..."

"A little more?" Devlin continued in a mocking tone, then chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a cute one, Ryou." The teenager forced a smile as Devlin lifted his hands from the water, which he wiped on his filthy apron, before heading over to the other side of the tiny kitchen. "You're lucky." Ryou watched as he scraped the bottom of the blackened crock pot with his ladle, until he had enough for a bowl of stew, and picked the crust-end of the loaf of bread, which he pressed into Ryou's hands. "Eat it here." He commanded, ushering Ryou deeper inside the room. "Joey would pack a shit if he saw you, he hates the hell outta you."

"I know." Ryou sighed despondently, then gave Devlin a wide smile. "And _thank_ you, very much."

"No problem." Devlin shrugged. "By the way, you're finishing the washing up." Ryou, who was already halfway through the bowl of cold stew, froze.

"_Pardon?"_

"I just did you a favour." Devlin reminded him. "I'm gonna go out and enjoy the sun for a bit. I've been in here since five and it's bloody claustrophobic..."

"A-All right." Ryou sighed and nodded. "That is fair."

"Sweet." Devlin clapped Ryou on the back, and then untied his apron, which he left hanging over a table. "See you in an hour or so, if you're not done."

"C-Certainly." The white-haired teen nodded despondently, crunching through the last of the bread before bringing his bowl and spoon over to the sink, dropping them into the cold salty water. "These stupid stuck-on bits of food..." He grumbled, lifting the wide plate from the sink to examine it better in the light. "And there's so much here to do..." He groaned, brushing his hair back out of his face. He grabbed at the hard-bristled scrubber from the water, and started to scrub at the crusty food.

"You all right Bakura?" On the upper deck, Bakura looked away from the ocean ahead of him, and to Malik, who had approached him looking quite solemn.

"Well, yeah." Bakura frowned, giving Malik an odd glance. "What do you mean?"

"Ryou's just pretty upset right now." Malik explained. "He's not telling me what happened... What did you say to him?"

"Oh, nothing." Bakura brushed him off with a small, fake smile. "He's just being his usual dramatic self. Ignore him."

"But... I mean, he's really depressed and quiet. Maybe you should talk to him." Bakura sighed, rolling his eyes.

"And maybe I should let him be." He muttered. "Look. We've said all we need to. You wanna talk to him so bad? Then tell him that when we land in Glasgow, he's free to go."

"_What?"_ Malik was dumbstruck. "Bakura, you can't just give up like that!"

"What, you expect Ryou and I to confess our undying love for each other?" Bakura sighed. "Look, it's just screwing up. I don't wanna hurt him, all right?"

"You've never worried about that before." Malik pointed out. "You just... Bakura, I know how much you care for him."

"And I'm telling you that it isn't gonna happen." Bakura retorted. "Look, just leave it, all right?"

"No!" Malik shook his head. "You _must_ have done something to upset him."

"So what if I did." Bakura muttered. "Look, since when did this become your business, Malik? Really?"

"Look, Ryou is my friend." Malik sighed. "I care about the both of you. Don't you see how miserable you're making yourself?"

"I'm fine." Bakura snarled. "Just return to your duties Malik. Now." The Egyptian looked at Bakura for another moment, before sighing, and nodding, shoulders slumped as he headed back onto the main deck.

_I have to find Ryou_. Malik bit his lip. _And the last time I looked, he was heading down below deck. He needs to know what Bakura's planning._ He broke into a light jog, heading down below deck.

"Ryou?" Malik called out into the empty dining area. No response. "Damn." He sighed deeply, and headed into the dimly-lit kitchen. "Hey Devlin, have you seen... Ryou?" He trailed off as he saw the white-haired teen bent over the sink, scrubbing at the mighty black pot. "What are you doing in here?"

"Scrubbing." Ryou replied shortly with a sigh. "Working off my meal. Isn't Devlin generous?"

"Oh, yes." Malik said drily, before leaning against a kitchen table. "Uh, I spoke to Bakura just before."

"And?" Ryou's hands paused in the water, and he looked keenly over at Malik.

"He... He said you can leave when we dock in Ireland." Malik's shoulders slumped, and he looked down at his hands.

"What?" Ryou gasped, and turned, to look at Malik fully in the eye. "A-are you serious?"

"... Yeah." Malik nodded quite despondently. "He said that he was just screwing things up and it was better."

"Oh _no._" Ryou groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "I.. I cannot stay there! Ireland? After Wentworth's disaster, an Englishman going to Ireland is suicide! Does he not know that? I cannot look after myself there!"

"So... You're not even upset about leaving the ship, just where you're about to go?" Malik sounded depressed. "That's great. Really."

"What? Malik, no no no." Ryou pleaded. "I want to leave, yes, but at the same time I want to stay... I do not know... I am so confused... But I am not going to leave in Ireland. I am not stupid enough to commit such a folly."

"So... You'll stay here then?" Ryou nodded, and Malik's heart considerably lightened. "Really?"

"For now, yes." Ryou reassured the Egyptian. "What Bakura first said still resonates with me... If I were to leave, anywhere, then where would I go? I would have to make my way to London, but how can I get there from Ireland unless I stow away on a ship or barter passage? And I cannot do that, for even then, the issue of crossing England is still too great..."

"You really sound like you want to leave." Malik said softly. "I don't know if Bakura would give you such an opportunity again. Maybe you should take it, if it's what you think is best."

"... Perhaps." Ryou sighed. "But I do not know what I want right now. A small part of me... Doesn't want to leave Bakura, as strange as it sounds."

"Awww, someone has a crush." Malik teased the whitenette, who blushed furiously. "Hey, I was kidding!"

"Well... Do not joke about such things." Ryou said weakly, and turned back to the sink. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to finish up here."

"Sure." Malik nodded, turning and leaving Ryou alone in the kitchen. "Catch you up later." He called, before closing the door.

"... Yes." Ryou murmured to the empty room, his head whirling.

* * *

"So how away are we now?" Seto barked as soon as he entered the room. Atemu looked up from his meal mildly, staring for a second, before returning to his meal. "Answer me!"

"You are like a child at times, Kaiba." Atemu sighed, taking a sip of wine from a fluted crystal glass. "Consistently demanding answers. Can you not see that I am eating?"

"Do not _trifle_ with me!" Seto slammed his fists down on the table, the fine crystal and china clattering. I am _not _in the mood for this!"

"So I could tell." The Egyptian sighed, and pushed his chair back. "You must relax, nobody likes an edgy captain. We shall have caught up with them before three o'clock. Now will you _please_ leave so I can eat in peace?"

"Oh, whatever." Seto growled, and slammed the door shit with intense force. He crossed the main deck to the railing, staring out over the water. This had blown up, to immense proportions. It was no longer just about getting Ryou home safely anymore. Seto's entire career, his reputation, and indeed, his residency in England hinged on the fail or gain of this particular mission, and it made him increasingly edgy. He had been far too rash when agreeing to chase the Grail, he knew, and yet... He didn't regret it. _Not yet._

_The gains still outweigh the losses by far... If I want to work my way up to an Admiral, I have to take risks... And with the state of the country, I'm not sure how much longer I have. _

_And Ryou. From what I remember, he was such a quiet boy. And intelligent. Never spoke out of turn. And his Uncle knew my birthparents, he always spoke so highly of that entire family. How did they face exile over one little outburst? Shows what a tyrant we have at the throne..._

Seto shook his head. _ I have to stay on track. We're several hours away from the battle that will make or break everything._ He turned his head and shoulders, looked back over the deck, at the soldiers, in their blue uniforms, hard at work. _At least I have a bunch that can hold a sword... None are too bright, though. _

"I hope you're feeling better." Atemu muttered as he approached the man, his meal abandoned.

"Oh, shut up." Seto snapped. "Do you ever have _anything _constructive to say?"

"Yes, but you never wish to hear." Atemu examined his fingernails. "Now listen." He took a more serious tone. "I may not be in the same hot water as you, career wise, but _trust _me." He leaned in a little, to whisper in Seto's ear. "My father would prefer it if he _didn't_ have to rescue me from a pirate ship." With that, he turned and walked off, leaving Seto alone on the upper deck, gripping the railing with a force that turned his knuckles white.

_"Goddamnit." _He muttered, swearing for just the third time in his entire life.

* * *

Big dramas next chapter! If you couldn't guess...

R&R!


	21. Chapter 21

Heyyy!

Yes, a new chapter! Everybody partay... I think.

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

* * *

"Bakura?"

"What!" The captain snapped, glaring over at Malik, who jumped back, startled. "What." He repeated again, letting out a long sigh. "Sorry, just a bit wound-up."

"I can tell." The blonde frowned. "I've been looking for you all afternoon... I spoke to Ryou."

"Oh." Something in Bakura's face tensed, and he looked away. "What... What did he say?"

"He's not going anywhere." Malik murmured gently. "He doesn't want to leave you. That's what he said."

"... Really?" Bakura finally shifted his concentration from the map in front of him, and to Malik. "He didn't."

"He did." Malik affirmed. "Crazy, huh?"

"I don't believe it." Bakura muttered flatly. "He said..." The white-haired man cleared his throat. "He's not acting like he wants to stay with me."

"He's angry." Malik murmured. "And messed in the head. Can't you even give his feelings a little consideration?"

"You're just like him!" Bakura sounded exasperated. "And I'm getting really... Look, what are you even doing?"

"Huh?" Malik blinked, confused. "What are you-"

"Captain!" It was Joey who burst the quiet, running across the main deck and leaping the stairs three at a time to the upper area. "Ya gotta see this... Oh man it just came outta nowhere..."

"What are you talking about?" Bakura stood up, noticing the tone in Joey's voice. "What came out of nowhere?"

"_That."_ The blonde forced a long telescope in Bakura's hands, and pointed to a speck on the horizon. A ship, one could tell even from that distance.

"Huh, I don't..." Bakura trailed off as he lifted the powerful spyglass to his eye, focusing on the ship, most notably the flag which hung atop the tall mast.

The Union Jack.

"Shit!" Bakura took a step back, eyes wide. That particular flag, in such a day and age where "Britain" was but a collective of three intensely divided nations, only had one use. "English military."

"What?" Malik gasped, and snatched the brass telescope from Bakura's lax hand. "You can't be serious!"

"'E is." Joey linked his fingers together, and rested them on his head. "Mebbe they're passin'."

"No." Bakura shook his head. "Not one ship like that. And such a big one. That's heading for us. I know it."

"No, you don't." Malik reasoned. "Don't be so paranoid Bakura, there's no need to think that one mouldy old ship is gonna take this on. We're more notorious than that... I hope."

"Either way, they would have seen the flag." Bakura looked up at the plain black banner, wincing. "They'll know we're pirates and chase after us."

"How far away do you think they are?" Malik lowered the telescope, biting hard on his lower lip. "Can we lose them?"

"Oh, we're not running." Bakura narrowed his eyes. "Joey, turn the ship around. Head straight for them. Let's test the gallantry of the English Navy."

"Got it." Joey was gone, running to the vast wooden wheel. Bakura stood with his hands at his sides, looking deep in thought while Malik still stared over the ocean worriedly, his nails digging into his palms. A moment later, the pair lurched forward as the boat listed hard to the right, Joey turning the massive vessel a hundred-and-eighty degrees. A few shouts of confusion came up from the main deck, and cries of indignation.

"Is taking the aggressive stance a good idea?" Malik looked back to Bakura, concern and fear in his eyes. "That ship will be crawling with seamen. Maybe-"

"Malik." Bakura's hands were on his hips, a frown on his face. "Who's the pirate captain here?"

"You are." Malik muttered gloomily, teeth gritted.

"And who's the slave lucky to be here and not on a plantation in the Americas?"

"I am." Malik crossed his arm, acting like a right teenager. "All right, I get it. But what if you're overpowered?"

"That's not gonna happen." Bakura said calmly. "Look, someone's obviously been tailing us since London. I can't believe I let this happen... I can tell you something, Malik, they won't expect us to turn around and fight. If nothing else, we have that."

"Yes, but..." Malik groaned, shaking his head. "Bakura-"

"Don't you trust me?" Bakura cut over him sharply, a frown on his face.

"Yes, I do, but-"

"Then don't question my judgement." Bakura muttered coolly.

"... Yeah. All right." Shoulders slumped, Malik turned away, and headed back onto the main deck. No doubt Joey would heap orders on him, now they had to get ready for a fight, and then just when things got interesting, Malik would be sent below deck. It was a frustrating pattern, one that angered Malik to no end. He wasn't useless. He'd been looking after himself for years, why didn't Bakura understand?

_I know it's concern._ Malik paused in his walk, and leaned against the railing, staring out over the sea. Already, the ship had grown in size, where, if one squinted and shaded their eyes, they could just discern the outline of the sails. _I've seen some of the wounds these people get. The lost eyes and hands. And when they get killed... _Malik shudder in remembrance of some mutilations he'd witnessed. _Bakura's right, I guess. Knowing me, I'd chicken out and get myself shot or stabbed of beheaded. But I'll never know because he won't bloody let me prove myself. I can be more than a cleaner here! This is womens' work that I'm doing, it's so stupid! I know what he said about the Americas is right, and I'm bloody lucky that he found me. But still!_

_... I got a bad feeling about this._

* * *

"All right men!"

They lined up, in a row of twenty, their shoulders almost touching. Bakura stood, about ten feet away from them, his hands behind his back. "I don't need to pep you up." Bakura smirked. "You're all hardened soldiers. Real fighters! Those pussyfooting English navymen have nothing on you. They fight for political reasons they don't even understand. What kind of soldiers are they! Not that I'm calling you soldiers." Bakura added, noting a few lips curling. "I would _never_ insult you such." He smiled, dipping his head in a slight nod. Joey watched Bakura intently, his eyes slightly narrowed, and hands balled into fists.

"It seems that a member of the English navy plans to invade us." Bakura continued. "Perhaps he is after a promotion, or fame and glory. Either way, he has taken us for a band of fools. Trying to sneak up on us, as though we don't have eyes and ears!" He started to pace, back and forth, his eyes on the floorboards.

"I know we haven't fought anyone like this in a long time," Bakura confessed, still walking. "But I have complete faith in all of you." He stopped, staring at the ship which was almost in firing distance. "Malik," Bakura turned, to look at the Egyptian, who stood up off the crate he was perched on. "Raise the red flag." There was a tight stillness in the air, as Malik obeyed, the coarse rope slipping through his fingers as he lowered the large black flag, attaching the new, crimson banner. The band of pirates tensed slightly, knowing what the colour symbolised.

"No quarter." Bakura reported. "Except the captain and his second-in-command. I want to know what the hell they're doing trying to jump us. Kill the rest. No prisoners. No mercy."

Silence. Bakura didn't need a shout of affirmation, didn't want such an uncouth gesture. He kept his gaze locked on the ship, his eyes narrowing, hands gripping the railing. For almost a minute, he was still, the air around him pregnant with trepidation.

"All right, get below deck!" He turned around, springing to action. "Ready the cannons, I want us firing in less than a minute! Joey, you command them below! Now move!" The ship bustled into action, and, like ants, they all scurried through the tiny doorway, in single file, thundering down the stairs. "Malik, come here." Malik lay the folded black flag down, and ran towards Bakura, staring at him questioningly. "I know I usually make you keep the guns loaded." He stared Malik full in the face. "But today, get Ryou. He's in our room. Take him below deck, into my room. Lock the door, and don't let anyone in but me, all right?"

"In other words, you want me to hide." Malik muttered, clearly less than happy with the prospect.

"No," Bakura sighed. "I want you to look after Ryou. He still doesn't know what's going on."

"All right, I got it." Malik turned to leave, when Bakura gripped his elbow, tightly. "What?"

"Malik, I'm serious." Bakura spoke in a low voice. "If anything happens to Ryou, I'm serious here, I will hold you responsible. Guard the kid with all you have."

"Yes, yes." Malik muttered, pulling himself free.

"And Malik!" Bakura called as the Egyptian started to walk away. Malik paused, and turned around, frowning in confusion. "Take care of yourself, too." He added, a small smile on his face. Malik chuckled slightly, and nodded, watching as Bakura disappeared below deck. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the door to the luxurious bedchamber, making Ryou start, and look up from his near-finished book.

"Malik?" Ryou lowered the Roman novel, his forehead wrinkling in a frown. "What's wrong? You look a little worried..."

"You have to come with me." Malik said gravely, looking anxiously out the window. From this view, the ship could not be seen at all, and so Ryou was confused, as opposed to afraid. "_Quickly."_

"A-All right." Ryou closed the book, and got up off the bed, following obediently. He was barefoot, and wearing no warm clothing, but, conscious of his time, and Ryou's feelings, Malik grabbed the whitenette's wrist and said nothing, despite the fact he knew it would be cold and damp. "Where are we going?"

"Downstairs." Ryou's frown deepened at the tone in Malik's voice, and when he got onto the main deck, spying the main ship, he froze.

"Malik..."

"Come _on_." Malik pulled at his wrist harder as he scuttled across the deck, Ryou lurching after him. Down the stairs, and through the narrow passageway, Ryou was dragged along by the desperate blonde, his fear growing as he heard the shouts and gabbling from below his feet.

"Malik, what is going _on!" _Ryou pleaded as he was pushed inside Bakura's small room, Malik shutting the door, and locking it quickly, the room pitch black. "I cannot see!"

"Sorry." Malik blundered across the room, trying to feel his way through the woolly darkness. As his fingertips grazed the smooth, rounded glass of the kerosene lamp, however, a terrific _BOOM_, accompanied by a vast shudder overcame the ship, earning a high cry from Ryou, who lost his precarious balance, falling to the floor. A few seconds later, a sickening _crunch_ tore a hole in the side of the English naval ship, yells audible even from their dark prison. Again, and again, the hollow sounds reverberated around the ship, until half a dozen cannons had been fired.

"Malik!" Ryou gasped, trembling violently. "Wh-What-"

"Shush." Malik's teeth were gritted as he lit the match, and held the shrivelling stick against the coarse thread of white rope. A moment later, a weak orb of yellow light pierced the room, throwing ominous shadows about the walls. _Boom! _"Where are you?"

"Here." Ryou sniffed, and shakily stood up. "Malik," His voice wavered. "Wh-What is going on here?"

"It's a ship by the English navy." _Boom! _He pulled out the rickety wooden chair, which Ryou took a seat upon. "They've been following us since London."

"O-Oh?" Ryou looked up at the blonde questioningly, as though he were about to press for more answers, but Maliks shrug illustrated that he simply had no more information to give. _Boom!_ "Why?"

"Because we're pirates." Malik murmured, watching the little yellow flame grow increasingly steady. "Take the ship, hang the criminals, and hang, draw, and quarter the captain. All in a days' work for those people."

"Th-They would _what?"_ Ryou gasped, eyes impossibly round. "H-Hang draw and quarter _Bakura?_"

"It's all right." Malik said soothingly. "Bakura wouldn't let that happen, trust me."

"Y-You know that that entails?" Ryou's voice was faint. "They disembowel you, take our your insides while you watch, then cut you into pieces while you are still alive..."

"It wont happen." Malik said calmly. "Ryou, please. He's not important enough for that, it's only for political or religious treasonists. They'd only hang him."

"_Only?"_ Ryou breathed. "O-Oh God. Oh my..."

"Ryou." Malik gripped Ryou's shoulders staring at him in the face. "Stop. You haven't seen these pirates in action. Well, not on a ship." He added quickly, noting a tightening of Ryou's expression. "They'll mop the floor with whoever it is."

"W-Well, but I-" Ryou screamed as an awesome _crunch!_ broke through the side of the ship, some distance away, but still enough to intensely frighten him. "Malik!"

"It's all right." Malik murmured, his tight grip on Ryou's shoulders relaxing comfortably a little. "It's going to be-" Another cannonball crashed into the ship, this time much closer, making the bewildered and terrified teenager cling to Malik, tears forming in his eyes. "Shit!" The cannons were firing almost consistently at this point, both by Bakura and the ship under the command of Seto.

"M-Malik, I-" He screamed again, loudly as a cannonball burst into the room, and instinctively, Malik wrapped his arms around Ryou, knocking them both to the floor. He used himself as a shield for the younger teen, Ryou pressed against the floorboards as another cannon shot through the room, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood. Underneath Malik, Ryou was shaking and sobbing, his mind fraught with the worst images – of being killed by a cannon, having his throat cut or heart stabbed. Unlike Malik, he'd had no experience at all of naval warfare, had no idea what was going on. He was terrified, confused, and the only comfort he had was Malik holding onto him tightly, murmuring soothing words into his ear, trying to dispel the whitenette's fears. For almost five minutes, the heavy bombardment of cannonballs continued, until a rapid transition from consistent fire to a mere peppering of huge metal bullets. Eventually, Malik lifted his head, shaking just as much as Ryou, but struggling to keep a stoic facade. The wall had a good four cannonball holes through it, which continued also to the other side, as though a giant pole had rammed through the wall and then was quickly withdrawn.

"It's all right Ryou." Gingerly, Malik pulled himself into a standing position, and, almost doubled over, ran across the room, peering through a cannonball-hole which was at eyelevel.

The ship was very close. He strained his ears, the sounds of shouting, the clanging of swords and occasional gunshots filling the air. It was clear that the ship had been boarded – but which one bore the majority of the fighting, Malik was unable to tell. He looked back at Ryou, who was swathed in darkness, apart from one of the holes, which lit up part of his face, his nose, cheek, and one red-rimmed eye, shrouded in a tangle of thick white hair.

"Wh-What is going on?" Ryou rubbed at his eyes, clearly finding speech a challenge.

"Interchange between the ships." Malik reported. "Fighting." He added, noting the look of confusion on Ryou's face.

"Oh." The whitenette sniffed again, and then nodded. "I see. And we must stay here?"

"You got it." He took a seat back on the floor beside Ryou, slinging an arm about the whitenette's slim shoulders. "But we'll be fine here. We're hidden, in a locked room."

"Riddled with holes." Ryou sniffed, and nevertheless buried his head in Maliks' shoulder.

"We'll be fine." Malik repeated, but gently touched Ryou's face anyway, wiping at his tears. "Don't cry. You will be all right. I promise you."

"I cannot help." Ryou sniffed. "Th-That was just so... Frightening!"

"I know." Malik nodded. "I almost wet myself too." He smiled weakly, and then looked up at the ceiling. It sounded like a herd of elephants up there...

"Joey!" Bakura ducked the swishing arm of the seaman, giving the somewhat blundering man a sound kick in the stomach. He flailed his arms desperately, and fell off the railing and into the water, comically. He turned his attention to the three other men who had rounded on him. He shot one in the face, and stabbed another in the chest, beheading the last man on the backstroke. Dropping the now useless pistol to the floor, Bakura dashed across the deck of the Navy ship, easily cutting down all those who attempted to stand in his way. Joey was locked in an intense combat with a tall brunette, who wore a pitch black coat with bands of gold at the sleeves. _The Captain._

Seto had, with a clever trick learned in Spain, disarmed Joey, and sent him tumbling to the floor. Before he could land the killing blow, however, his sword was intercepted by another. Seto looked up in surprise, to see Bakura smiling grimly at him. He swung his sword back, taking a swipe at the pirate captain, but Bakura easily caught the blow with his own, metal biting metal. By the time, Joey had found his feet again, the sword in his hand once more. Seto inwardly sighed. _Two of these rogues. I should be so lucky._ He rested on the balls of his feet, knees slightly bent, as he waited for one of the others to make the first move. It was Joey who attempted the first strike, making a swing at Seto, but the skilled brunette blocked it easily, also deflecting Bakura's blow on the back swing. They circled a little in their motions, a clustered nucleus surrounded by tight-knit groups of fighting. The pirates were outnumbered almost three-to-one, but they were hardened with years of battle and skilled, and as Bakura noted, fought for their very lives and liberty, while the naval soldiers were mostly barely-trained, unskilled, a rabble of men, young and old. Seto Kaiba had not been given the best men the English Navy had on hand – and they suffered grievously for it.

"Come on, is that all you have?" Seto smirked, panting slightly. He took a momentary stock. The blonde was crude, although brutal and skilled, lacking in any articulate moves and tricks. The captain was much better, he actually gave Seto a run for his money, but the slightly arrogant brunette still wasn't perceiving him as any real threat. He whipped his head around, caught a momentary glimpse of Atemu on the Grail, and, sighing, turned and made after him. He may have seemed as though he was running, yes, but this was actually far from the truth. He knew that taking on the two of these clearly skilled men was folly – he would need the backing of Atemu, as unpleasant as the thought may be.

"Hey!" Joey cried in protest.

"Get back here!" Bakura added, the pair of them in hot pursuit, Seto crossing the gangplank between the ships, launched by the pirates, easily, ducking his head a little to avoid gunfire.

"There you are." Atemu muttered grimly as Seto turned, taking up his fighting stance once more. Obediently, Atemu joined him, the four of them a cluster of swords and limbs, which finally broke into two deadly battles – Seto versus Joey, and Atemu facing Bakura in intense combat. Their increased numbers giving them momentum, the navy was slowly winning. Pirates ran back to their ship, rallying together in groups that managed to take down significant knots of men. Soon, the majority of the fighting was on the pirate ship, the cannon fire had ceased, all hands were literally on deck, as the group of men fought desperately for their lives.

"I don't like this." Malik murmured as he looked up at the ceiling, noticing how much louder the thumping above them had grown – more men had clustered onto the pirate ship. "I _really_ don't like this..."

"Please do not." Ryou had curled up in a corner, trying to make himself as small as possible. "I-I am terrified enough as it is..."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Malik looked over at Ryou, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't mean to scare you... It's going to be okay."

"No, I-"

"No, I mean it." Malik said earnestly, walking towards the boy and crouching down in front of him. "Why do you think Bakura isolated us from the rest? He knows what happens to the crew if we lose. Listen to me, Ryou. You were kidnapped. You attempted to escape in London. You have no reason to be afraid for your life. You're not a pirate, you're a hostage. If anyone comes at you, tell them that, that you're the kidnapped son of an English nobleman. They won't touch you."

"Y-You really mean that?" Ryou sniffed, rubbing at his nose. Malik nodded. "But... What about you?"

"What about me?" Malik shrugged. "I'm a captive slave here too, a prisoner. I was taken here against my wish and forced into heavy labour."

"No one will believe that." Ryou said deeply. "I-I'm sure they won't..."

"Yeah, they will." Malik nodded. "I've pulled that before. Saved me from getting shot, too. So don't worry, okay?"

"I am still going to worry." Ryou protested. "But I-"

"Shh!" Malik's eyes widened, and he held up his hands. Affronted, Ryou closed his mouth, although the deep frown on his face expressed his deep displeasure. Malik cocked his head to one side, eyes narrowed. Someone was coming down the stairs. Loudly.

"Get down." Malik muttered, keeping his voice low. "Flat on the floor. And stay very quiet." Too terrified to complain or do else, Ryou nodded, and lay on his stomach, his shaking intensified. "Follow." He breathed, and with a gesture of a curled finger, made his way across the floor. The man had stomped across the dining room, and was now systematically opening all the doors, examining their holey insides. Soon, the man, fat and unpleasant, had rested his hand on the doorknob to Bakura's room, and twisted. Nothing. Locked. Something of value was in there. He shot the lock, with his last pistol, which he let clatter loudly to the floor, kicking what was left of the broken door in. As he stepped on the threshold, the room seemed empty. However, the smell of kerosene, which pervaded the room after the lamp had been broken in the fray, gave off a smell, which had a deeper, more intense odour clinging to it – it had just been heated and burned. He stomped towards the broken fragments of lamp, bent down, and pressed a finger against a curved pane of glass. Still warm.

Underneath the desk, Ryou was pressed into Maliks side, a caramel hand clamped tightly over his mouth. Too terrified to move, to breathe, the pair kept themselves hunched, as small as possible.

"'Ellooooo." He uttered in a cruel singsong. "I know yer in 'ere." The man spied the desk, and, lips curling in a smile, he walked around to the back of the desk, easily kicking the wooden furniture away. Ryou screamed, and curled into Malik, pressing his face into his shoulder. "What's this?"

"Don't hurt us!" Malik held up his hands in an instant gesture of surrender. "We're hostages! Please, we're not pirates!"

"Oh?" Maliks' heart sank when he saw the look in the mans' eyes. He simply didn't care. To him, the two ragged, terrified teenagers in front of him were the enemy. "An' I care?"

"He's English!" Malik pleaded, eyeing the sword in the seaman's hand. "The son of a nobleman! And I'm a captured slave. Please... We're not..." He trailed off, lip trembling as the man raised the long sword in his blue-sleeved arm, frozen with terror. Ryou was sobbing weakly, and Malik had wrapped his arms around the small youth, riddled with utter hopelessness.

"I got orders t' kill." He exposed rotting teeth in shades of yellow and brown in a cruel smile. And it was true. Perhaps if Seto had warned his crew to be on the lookout for a slim youth with long white hair, and to spare him, Ryou would have been safe – but as it was, Seto had not, intending on keeping the true intentions of the mission a secret, knowing the outcry that would ensue from the crew of sixty realising their visit to France was a facade to save one relatively unimportant person.

And with that, the crude soldier brought the sword down.

* * *

... Hmm.

What is is about evil cliffhangers that I just love so?

Don't hurt meh! -ducks-

R&R?


	22. Chapter 22

Aaaaaarrrrr

-dodges attack-

I KNEW that would happen... Me and my evil cliffies xD

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING MUAHAHAHAHA!

* * *

"Take _that!"_

Bakura gasped, taking a rapid step backwards as a particularly nasty sword blow landed near his face. Instead, the sharp blade sliced at his arm, earning a cry from the captain.

"You little..." Bakura redoubled, striking out against Atemu. He was facing the doorway, and out of the corner of his eye, noticed a fat seaman disappear down below deck.

_Ryou._

Bakura growled, trying to fight Atemu off, but the Egyptian prince was persistent, and, resorting to dirty tricks, he floored Atemu with a swift kick to the stomach, and sprinted down the narrow staircase, making his way at top speed to his little office in the first level below deck.

The door was open. Bakura swore, pulling his last of six pistols from his waist and skidded a little as he turned into the room, his heart seizing with terror when he realised what was happening in front of him. In a heartbeat, he aimed and fired, the bullet hitting the man right between the eyes, just as he slashed in a frenzy at the teenagers. Ryou screamed, not realizing who it was who had shot the man, hiding his face against Maliks' shirt. When he realised all was still, he raised his tangled white hair, lower lip trembling at the sight of the dead man sprawled before him. Ryou pulled himself free of Malik, who appeared to be in a state of shock, his hand against his cheek, and turned around.

"Oh Jesus." Bakura rushed towards Ryou, dropping his sword, Ryou finding it hard to breathe. "You all right?" He crouched in front of the crying teen, holding Ryou's face in his hands. "Oh thank God." He was about to embrace Ryou, when he noticed blood trickling through Maliks' fingers. "What the hell?"

"Malik!" Ryou gasped, taking his caramel hand and pulling it away, gulping when he way the blood smeared across his cheek. "What happened?"

"Nothing." Malik said faintly, Bakura's hand on his shoulder. "Just got nicked by his sword. I'll be fine. Just stings."

"How the hell did he get in?" Bakura turned his gaze back to the door. "I thought it was locked."

"Shot it through." Malik winced, wiping at his face with his sleeve. It was only a few inches wide, but was quite deep, and still bled heavily. "I think-"

"_There_ you are!" All three started, Bakura's nose wrinkling in a frown as he noticed Atemu in the doorway. Instinctively, Malik wrapped his arms around Ryou, Bakura springing to his feet and rushing at the man. The light was bad, but Bakura was able to make out Atemu's figure in the gloom, and he gave the Egyptian prince a very well-aimed shot, that most would not be able to defend. Atemu growled, infuriated that a rogue man such as Bakura was getting the better of him, and withdrew his dagger, using the gloom to his advantage. With a flick of the wrist, he slammed the finely-wrought blade into Bakura's stomach as soon as the pirate was close enough.

Letting out a choked cry, Bakura doubled over, his grip on his sword slackening considerably. Ryou screamed in terror, but unfazed, Bakura straightened again, deflecting a deadly blow from Atemu's sword, with his (injured) arm, he wrenched the sharp dagger from his stomach, and let it clatter to the floor, undeterred. He rounded on Atemu, teeth gritted in an attempt to counteract the excruciating pain. However, his wound had greatly handicapped him – he was taking defensive movement, focusing his attention on blocking and averting Atemu's sword blows, as opposed to attempting to land a strike. Ryou watched, absolutely frozen, unable to tear his gaze from the blood that was slowly soaking Bakura's shirt. Didn't that _hurt?_

"Bottom drawer!" Bakura managed to bark at Malik, who had his hands on Ryou's shoulder. The Egyptian nodded, and sprung into action, pulling at the bottom drawer of the upended desk. He wrenched it straight from its heavy wooden frame, grabbing at the single-shot pistol which had been stored there. He grasped it, meaning to aim it at Atemu, as a threat, but as he raised his arm, he was finally able to get a look at the man who Bakura was fighting.

_No!_ Malik started. It was the governor of Egypt's' son. Atemu. He'd recognize that hair anywhere. His hands clenched the gun tightly, but he wasn't aiming it at the Egyptian prince. He stared at Atemu wide-eyed, totally frozen. A man he'd seen only in coins and pamphlets was engaged in hand-to-hand conflict with Bakura. _If I even threaten him, I'd be betraying my country. That's high treason! _

Wordlessly, Malik let the gun clatter to the floor. Bakura swore under his breath, and Atemu eyed the gun cautiously, wondering if he was close enough to maybe spring out, and snatch at it, aiming at one of the boys. The white-haired one, who looked meek, and docile. That would certainly make Bakura rethink his actions!

However, Atemu was not fast enough. Ryou, who's attention had shifted to Malik once he started rootling around for the pistol, flashed a quick glance at the other two, at Bakura, clutching at his stomach, teeth gritted, and Atemu staring at the pistol, and, hardened with resolve, a fleeting moment of desperate heroism, Ryou lunged forward, grasping the gun with trembling hands. Keeping the pistol trained on Atemu, his aim unsteady and hands wavering, Ryou slowly stood up, gulping. He tasted salt on his upper lip, which he licked nervously.

"D-Drop your sword." Ryou swallowed, his trembling finger placing feather-light pressure on the trigger. "Now!"

"Now, now." Atemu was not in the least bit worried at the boy who had clearly never held a gun before. "You do not want to be playing with-"

"Drop it!" Ryou repeated, his voice rising. He was angry, the emotion heightening as he caught a glimpse of Bakura, pressing his palm against his wound, blood nevertheless trickling through his fingers. Malik flicked a despairing gaze toward Ryou, his breathing shallow. _Don't..._

"Go ahead." Atemu smiled, raising his arms in a gesture of mock surrender. "Shoot me then." Ryou's lip trembled, his heart hammering violently in his chest. What he didn't see, however, was Bakura sneaking in the shadows behind Atemu, until he caught a glimpse of white, by which stage, it was too late.

Bakura easily looped an arm around Atemu's chest, pressing the sharp blade of the dagger into the base of the Egyptian's caramel throat. Ryou jumped, dropping the pistol, and Malik stared wide-eyed, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"Expect_ this?"_ Bakura hissed into Atemu's ear. The Egyptian prince growled, glaring daggers at Ryou. "Drop your sword. Do it, or I'll cut your throat." Letting out a long groan, Atemu released his tight grip on his finely-crafted sword, the bloodied metal falling to the floor. There was no doubt about it – weaponless and friendless, unable to move his arms, and with a knife blade pushed into his throat, Atemu was well and truly trapped. "I take it we have your surrender?"

"I thought you did not give out quarter." Atemu's teeth were gritted, boiling with inner rage and fury. Bakura's smile grew, the sense of self-satisfaction increasing, and he tightened his hold on the ivory-handled blade.

"You're a special exception." Bakura snarled. "No, I think you ought to come with me." The captain chanced a look at Ryou, who still looked beside himself, trembling violently. "Be back in a moment, Ryou." He added, giving the teenager a short nod. Atemu, who kept complacent and obedient for the sake of his own life, and a chance for future escape, tensed at the name, eyes narrowing. _Is this Ryou? The scrawny boy who tried to aim a pistol at me?_ It didn't seem possible, but the high-boned features, slender, unworked hands, and naturally straight posture were visible even underneath the grime and shabby clothes. This was the young man that Seto was looking for. _And he is working on the side of the pirates... Oh, this is beautiful, delicious irony._ But it most certainly did not help his predicament in the slightest. Bakura pushed him in the back roughly, coaxing him to walk out of the room, the blade still pressed at his throat. He was led down the dark, foreboding hallway silently, Bakura clearly seething with rage and indignation at the sneaky stabbing of his gut. If he was in pain, Bakura didn't show it, as he pushed Atemu through the doorway to the dark, cold, and slimy cells. It was dark, without a speck of light, but being the captain for five years and a crew member over ten years previous, Bakura knew his way around every inch of the ship, and could walk from one end to the other with his eyes shut. The jails were relatively small, there were only six, four large ones that could hold a dozen each in a pinch, and two single, solitary cells. They were like rather like large metal cages, set into the wall, rows of bars, not wooden walls, separating the cells, so prisoners could reach out and touch one another, if they felt the need to.

"Hey!" Atemu cried out in shock as he was pushed into one of the tiny cells, with a force that made him tumble to the floor in a disgraceful heap. "You!"

"Yes?" Bakura slammed the door with a kick, and before Atemu could right himself int he darkness, drove the heavy, ajar lock home. The ring of keys hung on its trusty nail by the door, far from any conceivable reach.

"Let me go, you bastard!" Atemu rattled the bars. "How is this dastardly deed fair in the slightest!"

"_Fair?"_ Bakura was incredulous. "You stabbed me in the fucking stomach!" It throbbed painfully, still leaking a considerable amount of blood. The pirate captain winced, pressing one hand firmly against the sound. "Just enjoy your stay." He concluded coldly before turning, Atemu shouting and swearing as loud as he could as he kicked and rattled at the bars.

"Bakura!" Ryou rushed towards the man, who had emerged in the hallway once more, bowed slightly. "Oh goodness!" Flooded with worry, Ryou touched Bakura's shoulder, staring in sick horror at the blood soaked shirt, the crimson-stained fabric looking all the worse in the golden yellow light of the oil lamps that hung on the wall, always maintained and burning. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." Bakura brushed the teenager away, his vision doubling. The pain in his stomach increased significantly, as the adrenaline from locking up Atemu faded, his hands and feet growing numb. "I'm f..."

"Bakura!" Ryou's scream brought Malik running, the Egyptian shoving the full gun into his makeshift belt. The whitenette managed to catch Bakura before he slumped to the floor, saving him from collapsing on the salt-stained floorboards. Ryou hunched over the man, his hand on his chest, trying to find a heartbeat. "Oh no..."

"Oh God." Malik gasped, flinging himself onto the ground beside Ryou and Bakura, his face ashen. "What happened?"

"He just collapsed." Ryou sounded close to tears. "I-I don't... he just said he was all right, then fell unconscious. How do I stop the bleeding of this wound? How?" Ryou sounded almost hysterical as he laid his hands on Bakura's stomach, trying to stem the flow of thick, warm blood. "Malik, help me!"

"Bakura!" It was Devlin, who called from the eating room, sword in hand. "Bakura, where did you – _Christ!"_ As he entered the hallway, attention fixated on the bloodied, unconscious form of Bakura on the floorboards, Ryou and Malik hovering distraught over him. "What the hell!"

"He was stabbed." Malik murmured, sounding more like a false echo than his real voice. "In the stomach..."

"Shit." Devlin winced. "Err... All right." He switched to a more businesslike tone. "Malik, we _need_ you upstairs. There can't be thirty of 'em left, but we're hemmed in tight. Ryou, take Bakura into the sleeping quarters, and lie him on a bunk. Get a cloth, and press it tight on the wound, as hard as you can, and try to bring him around." He straightened back up, grabbing at Maliks' wrist, the Egyptian managing to grasp Bakura's bloodied sword before he was dragged out of sight, giving Ryou one last despairing look. Ryou kneeled on the floorboards, stock still.

_What if Malik was run through?_ His mouth was dry. _And what if Bakura doesn't make it?_ Ryou lowered his gaze to Bakura, his pallid face, damp with sweat, teeth chattering slightly in his short gasps for air. Ryou instinctively wrapped his arms around Bakura's shoulders, burying his face in the crook of the captain's neck. Hysteric sobs bubbled in his throat, panic rising in his chest, sending a shiver down his spine. Ryou clung to the still form of Bakura, as though it would bring some sort of comfort to him, until a dampness on his shirt, Bakura's blood leaking upon him, brought him back to reality.

"Oh God." Ryou breathed, one arm still about Bakura's shoulders. He knew there was no possible way that he could carry Bakura, he was much too weak, and Bakura too heavy. Instead, he hooked his hands in Bakura's armpits, and dragged him, down the short hallway distance, and into the dimly-lit quarters. With considerable effort, Ryou managed to heave Bakura's leaden figure onto the closest bunk possible, sitting himself down on the edge of the bed beside the man. Knowing the crew member would forgive him, Ryou grabbed at a dirty, discarded shirt, which he tore a large strip from, wadded, and pressed over Bakura's stomach, which was still oozing blood quite heavily. Terrified, Ryou put as much weight as he could down on the wound, trying desperately to think through everything he had learned. However, his education, although extensive and detailed focused mainly on fine arts, and he knew almost nothing of science and medicine. _There must be something I can do... Bakura, you cannot die!_

"Wake up!" He cried out desperately, hitting Bakura across the face. "Please!" He slapped him again, not hard, just a sharp sting to try and rouse the man from his unconsciousness. It was useless, however. Bakura was out cold, from blood loss as the stab wound, which had, very luckily, missed his vital organs. Ryou wasn't sobbing, but he still cried, tears rolling down his smudged cheeks, his hands trembling violently. _This is my fault._ Ryou swallowed. _If it were not for my special security needs, he would have not had to protect me, he would not have been wounded..._

_I cannot think like this._ He sniffed, wiped at his nose and eyes with a dirty sleeve. After all, it was a farfetched series of events. Tears wouldn't save Bakura, nor would guilt. Instead, Ryou tore another, thin strip, from the shirt, folding the remainder of the filthy garment into a little pad, which he managed to tie tightly around Bakura's stomach with the torn strip. It was a crude, makeshift bandage, he knew, but for the moment, it would simply have to do.

"Don't die." Ryou snivelled, resting his forehead against Bakura's chest.

Above him, a struggle of a different sort waged. Malik had followed Devlin onto the deck, where he promptly been flung into a hand-to-hand combat with a squat, bleary-eyed soldier. Unfortunately, this man had some skill with a blade, which was a major problem for the largely unskilled Malik, who had only really learned some rudimentary technique. The Egyptian cried out as the solider cut a nasty swipe, aiming at his neck, attempting to duck away from the blow. A clash of steel made him freeze, and he anxiously opened one eye to see Tristan had intercepted the blow.

"You need to be-" He kicked the soldier in the stomach, stabbing him in the chest as he slumped to the floorboards. "_Careful."_

"Uh, yeah." Malik swallowed, scratching at the back of his head. His face flushed red in embarrassment, and he clutched at his sword tighter. _Really nice Malik. Way to prove yourself there..._

"Watch it!" Tristan warned, turning on his heel. Malik followed suit to see three of the remaining soldiers bearing down on him. He gasped, managing to block the flash of steel headed for his head, tossing a momentary glance to Tristan, who had got one through the chest, hands full with the skilled man in the blue coat. Dragging his sword away, Malik made a lunge at the soldier, rather clumsily, he admitted to himself, but he managed to land a blow on the mans' shoulder, the soldier, crying out as the tendons and ligaments in his collarbone were slashed, clinging at the severed flesh. Malik took the chance, and in a sweeping blow, managed to sever the mans' head completely. It dropped with a sickening _thud_, rolling towards his feet, but before Malik had a chance to recollect himself, a _swish_ of steel came very close to his ear. He started, seeing the man that had previously been fighting Tristan. Eyes widening, Malik deflected the next blow, catching a glimpse of the brown-haired man lying spread-eagled on the floorboards, eyes open and glassy, a crimson wound blossoming on his back.

"You _bastard!"_ With a renewed vigour, Malik re-wielded Bakura's finely-crafted weapon, bringing it down on the mans' left arm. Due to its almost perfect sharpness, and strength behind Malik's blow, the arm was severed completely, the soldier screaming loudly as it thudded to the deck. It still twitched, fingers curling in and out disgustingly, making Malik's stomach turn. With a roar, the soldier swung at Malik with his whole arm, which clung to his rather battered sword with a grim determination. Malik blocked the strike, and then laid a powerful kick on the mans' stomach. The soldier who killed Tristan went down, finished off with a swift stab in the throat.

"It's over!" Joey called out making Malik turn around. There were less than ten soldiers left, standing in a circle, facing out. Fourteen pirates surrounded them, expressions hardened, swords points directly at hearts and throats.

"Oh?" Seto sneered. His sword was still trained on Joey, eyes narrowed. "You _really _think so?" A flash of steel, a _chink_ of metal, Seto had launched himself towards Joey. As if on cue, the soldiers attacked desperately, but they were beaten. Malik finished one off in the head with the pistol, and Joey, using dirty trick he had learned from an Italian, managed to prick Seto in the wrist, the brown-haired captain releasing his hold on his sword in shock. A kick, Seto was on his rear, glaring up poisonously at the man who had the point of his broadsword less than an inch from Seto's throat.

A simultaneous clatter; the remaining six soldiers dropped their weapons to the floor, hands raised meekly in defence. There was a heated silence on the front deck, all pirates waited for Joey to call the order – the red flag flying with pride on their mast was more than an empty threat.

"No quarter." He locked eyes with Seto as six simultaneous cries of unholy pain filled the air, then, almost in sync, cut short. Shaking, Malik let Bakura's sword drop to the ground, surveying the scene that had unfolded before him. The bodies of thirty soldiers, at least, littered the deck, dismembered, beheaded, or simply bearing crimson badges upon their chest or stomach. There were three roughly-dressed pirates that Malik could make out, Tristan among them, that lay among the dead. Seto still sat, staring up at Joey in the centre of the deck, while around him the pirates clustered, all looking exhausted, worn, but exhilarated. They had done it. They had defeated a sixty-strong army of English soldiers with very few losses.

"Take him to the brig." Joey commanded almost lazily, casting a curious eye about the place. Where _was _Bakura? Why was he absent from this great victory?

He was to know soon enough. As the pirates broke into yells and cries of victory, Seto was roughly seized by the three burliest pirates, and dragged, protesting and struggling, below deck, and Devlin sprinted desperately across to Joey, stepping on the body of his fallen comrade, José, in his desperation.

"He's been stabbed." Devin gasped. "Bakura's been gravely wounded."

"_What?"_ Joey froze, eyes widening, a cold trickle of shock making its way down his back. "When?"

"Just before." Devlin gestured. "It was the second-in-command, he's in the cells already..." The victorious shouts had ceased, and now disturbed mutters spread across the deck, growing as Devlin led Joey down below deck, Malik following.

"What the 'ell 'appened?" Joey demanded as soon as he entered the sleeping quarters, where, on the nearest bunk, Ryou had his hands pressed over Bakura's stomach, the pirate captain's face deathly white.

"H-He was stabbed with a dagger off-guard." Ryou blurted tearfully, shaking violently. "The blood has slowed, but it will not stop..."

"Move." Ryou cried out as he was pushed away, Malik taking his shoulders, the pair watching as Joey sat on the bed beside Bakura, his head on the white-haired mans' chest. "'is 'eart's beatin' all righ'." He muttered and pulled the cloths away, pulling up Bakura's shirt to examine the wound closer. Ryou winced as Joey pulled at the hole in the skin, and buried his face in Malik's shirt as Joey actually slid two fingers inside, probing at Bakura's internal organs.

"And?" Devlin asked, less squeamish than the teenagers, who were unable to look at Joey or Bakura. The blonde withdrew his hand, shook his head, wiping his digits on Bakura's shirt.

"Nothin' stabbed." He sighed. "'E's lucky, it missed 'is guts. Just hit a vein or summat. A lot o' blood gone, but 'e'll be fine."

"R-Really?" Ryou breathed, withdrawing his head from Malik's shirt. The man nodded.

"Just needs lots o' rest and fer it ta heal. He'll be off his feet fer a week."

"Oooh, he won't like that." Malik smirked.

"If 'e wants to live, 'e will." Joey said matter-of-factly. "Devlin, get me somethin' ta clean 'im up, will ya?"

"I can do it." Ryou volunteered. "There must be many others injured on board. Your extensive knowledge on human anatomy could be utilized by other people currently."

"I don' know what yer said, but all righ'." He stood up, arching his neck slightly in a stretch. "I'll help with t' others. Malik, come with." Malik nodded and followed, while Devlin rushed to get some water and bandages for Bakura. Ryou was left alone in the room with the unconscious man, who he walked towards quietly, taking a gentle seat on the side of the bed.

"Oh, Bakura." He sighed, shaking his head. "You were wounded protecting me and Malik... I must thank you for that, when you awake." Ryou swallowed, the fear welling in his chest had not yet dissipated, despite Joey's optimistic diagnosis. "Because you will." He sniffed, hated looking at those closed, unmoving eyelids.

"I'm going to look after you." Ryou promised. "Until you get better, I swear it."

* * *

_What... Happened?_

Bakura groaned weakly, flickering his eyelids. He felt as though they were made of lead...

_God, my stomach._

It hurt, a _lot_. Bakura winced, groaning again. He half-opened his eyes, vision slightly blurred, finding a figure crowned with soft white hair very close to him.

_Ryou?_

Something cold and wet dabbed at his forehead. A cloth? He frowned, and a tiny bead of water trickled into his left eye.

"Oh, Bakura." Ryou's sweet voice filled his ears, enveloping him, like a mist, calming him. "You're awake."

"MMmmm." Bakura groaned. He opened his mouth. "What..." His voice died in his throat, tongue thick, and fuzzy, it felt as though he had swallowed sand.

"Shh..." A cup was pressed against his lips, and Bakura took a tentative sip. The water, cold and pure, trickled past his lips and down his throat, dispelling the horrendous coarse texture in his mouth. "There you go."

"What happened?" Bakura finally managed to ask, his eyes still half-open. Ryou put the cup down, sitting close to Bakura on the bed.

"We won." Ryou smiled. "Before sunset. You have been out cold for several hours... Everyone was so worried about you..."

"Glad to know they care." Bakura mumbled, a vague smile on his lips. "What were... our losses?" He opened his eyes completely, looking up at Ryou, his vision clearing.

"Five." Ryou was still dabbing soothingly at Bakura's face. "Pedro, José, Sven, John, and... Tristan."

"Damn." Bakura sighed, his heart sinking. "_Damnit."_

"Do not stress yourself." Ryou warned. "You need to stay as still and quiet as possible, or you could rupture your stomach and start bleeding again."

"Oh." Bakura sighed, eyes closing again. "How bad is it?"

"It appears nasty upon sight, but in reality is not very damaging." Ryou said encouragingly. "No internal organs were damaged. You were very lucky."

"I'm luckier to have you look after me." A ghost of a smile passed Bakura's lips. "Where is everyone right now?"

"On the deck." Ryou sighed. "They are being such drunken, raucous brutes. It is past midnight, but they have made no indication of slowing... Indeed, they may celebrate into the dawn."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Bakura groaned, still in considerable pain. "They took down sixty naval soldiers. Let them celebrate. It's certainly one of our greater victories."

"Oh, I would not dream of interrupting them." Ryou smiled. "But what about you? Is there anything you need at all? Are you hungry? Would you like a drink?"

"Something strong would be very good." Bakura groaned. "You have no idea how much this hurts... I have some stashed in here, actually. Go..." He paused, letting out a long breath. "Go to my trunk. The bottom."

"Er, all right." Confused, Ryou slid across the bed, and crossed the captains' room, pulling the lid of the trunk, and sorting through the clothing. His hands closed around a glass bottle, as tall as a wine bottle, but with a much larger barrel. He extracted the bottle to find it was made of clear glass, with a plain white label in a language he couldn't read, it was almost full, with a clear substance.

"That's the one." Bakura smirked as Ryou made his way back to the bed, examining the writing with a confused expression on his face.

"What is it?" He enquired as he sat back on the bed, looking at the label. "And what is this dialect?"

"Polish." Bakura winced. "They call it vodka."

"Oh?" Ryou gently removed the cork, and took a careful sniff. "Ugh! This smells absolutely foul!"

"It tastes even worse." Bakura sighed. "Pour me a glass, will you?"

"A-Are you sure?" Ryou frowned. "This looks..."

"I'm sure." Bakura reassured Ryou. "But a _small_ one, for Christs' sake. It's very potent."

"How potent?" Ryou carefully sloshed a few inches into the wooden cup. "More than wine?"

"About five times more than wine." Bakura chuckled. "Especially that bottle. I paid a pretty penny, but it was worth it. They use this as medicine in the eastern European continent."

"Oh." Ryou brought the cup to Bakura's lips, and Bakura downed the burning liquid in one gulp, eyes watering. "You all right?"

"Yep." Bakura relaxed against the pillows, as the familiar burning sensation raged through his mouth, down his throat, eventually settling in his stomach. "Pour me another."

"Are you sure?" Ryou frowned. "If it is as potent as you say..."

"Ryou, I'm in agony." Bakura pleaded. "Seriously, my stomach hurts like hell. Pour me another one."

"... All right." Ryou relented, and poured another small glass, which Bakura again downed quickly, not wishing the horrible liquid to remain on his tongue a second more than necessary. "Better?"

"Much." Bakura relaxed further. Already, the vodka – a potent sixty-five percent brew – had caused a fuzzy sensation to swell in his head. "Mmm..."

"I think that is enough for now." Ryou said firmly, re-corking the bottle and placing it on the spindly bedside table. "Is there anything else you want?"

"No, I'm all right now." Bakura mumbled, his eyes half-open again. "Ryou, why are you being so nice?" He asked out of the blue, staring vaguely at Ryou.

"Oh." The white-haired teen looked down at his hands, fidgeting slightly. "Well... You got that awful wound defending Malik and I. The least I can do is care for you until you are healed."

"Aren't you nice." Bakura sighed. "And here I was, thinking you cared."

"Oh, and that too!" Ryou added. "I was terrified when you were injured. I thought you may die... It was so frightening."

"Really?" Bakura perked up a little. "You care that much for me?"

"W-Well..." Ryou's face went red. "I-I..."

"Awww, that's so cute." The alcohol was already affecting Bakura's brain, and dulling his senses. "I didn't realise I was so loved."

"Oh, be quiet." Ryou muttered. "And besides." He added, after a moment of silence. "You were speaking of dropping me in Ireland." His tone was slightly accusing.

"Oh, yeah." Bakura murmured. In truth, it was only twelve or so hours ago, but it felt as though a lifetime had passed since then. "I'd forgotten about that..."

"I have not." Ryou stared at the bedcovers. "I did not realise you wanted to get rid of me..."

"What? Oh, no no no." His stomach was no longer on fire. Instead, it felt like a dull ache, the gentle throbbing of a steady drum. "It wasn't like that. You were unhappy. And... Well..." Bakura sighed. "I didn't want you unhappy."

"So, you are willing to let me leave if it makes me happy?" Ryou was extremely surprised.

"I'm not that selfish." Bakura mumbled. "Jesus, what do you take me for?"

"I am sorry." Ryou apologized, looking down at his hands. "I did not think to interpret it in such a manner..."

"Clearly." Bakura said dryly. "But... Ryou, I do care for you. You know that right?"

"Y-Yes." Ryou's voice cracked, and he swallowed, embarrassed. "I-I do."

"And it hurts to have you push me away." It was the inhibitions that alcohol had released which were talking. "I'm trying to be so nice to you."

"I-I know." Ryou's voice came out as a choked stammer.

"I'm pretty new to this." Bakura went on. "I've never felt... this, for anyone. Someone who is so sweet, and innocent, and pure, who actually remains in my presence and listens... It has never happened before. You've made me feel love, Ryou. Real love."

"O-Oh." Ryou squeaked. He wished Bakura would stop talking, but a big part of him wanted the captain to continue.

"And I did hurt you." Bakura winced. "Bad. And fuck, I can't say sorry enough..."

"You didn't." Ryou cut in, biting down hard on his lower lip. Bakura started.

"Eh?"

"You never apologized." Ryou explained. "You said that you were not going to, that there was no reason..."

"... Oh." Bakura blinked. "Shit. Well... Then I-I'll say sorry now." He lay totally lax on the mattress, enjoying the sweet numbness of the vodka. He would need some more quite soon, however... "That all right?"

".. Of course." Ryou's expression softened as he looked down at Bakura. "Of course it is."

"Great." Bakura sighed. "And I'm sorry about your things as well. Especially your pendant. I shouldn't have tried to sell that."

"Bakura, it is all right-"

"No, it's not." Bakura shook his head. "That was just malush-mulish-evil of me." He sighed, eyes closed. "It was worth much more to you than it ever was to me."

"Bakura, please." A small twinge of guilt surged through Ryou's heart as he thought of the pendant, embossed with the Tudor rose, hiding in the back of the drawer of brass and copper junk. "Do not go on..."

"No, let me finish." Bakura slurred, finding it increasingly difficult to talk. "I've had such things taken from me. And it hurts like nothing else, I know..." He sighed, deeply, at least one thread of conscious, rational thought running through his mind. "Hey, go to my bedside drawer." Ryou paused, a frown creasing his features. "Do it."

"All right." Ryou nodded, sliding off the bed, and opening the delicate little drawer. It was loaded with little bits of papers, jewellery, letters, pictures, drawings, trinkets, and other such items, little personal things that Bakura had accumulated over the years and kept. Ryou's eyes landed on a small painting, which he withdrew, holding up to the light of the lamps and candles.

It was a small miniature, of Bakura, when he looked about twelve, maybe thirteen. What struck Ryou at first was how youthful Bakura looked, with high-boned, slender features, rounded, yet still angular, his dark eyes seeming to stare into Ryou's soul. Even at that age, Bakura was handsome. Ryou was pleasantly surprised.

"You were a pretty child." He noted with a smile, pleased that Bakura had kept such a thing for so long. Bakura chuckled, and opened his eyes again, turning his head to stare at Ryou.

"Thanks for the compliment." He sounded slightly garbled. Ryou blushed. "You were, too. Still are."

"I do not think I am much of a child anymore." Ryou admitted, staring sadly down at Bakura's young image. "Not after... After my adventures aboard this ship." He quickly evaded the uncomfortable moment, but it was futile. The word _rape_ hung in the air, unspoken.

"Look, get the small box." Bakura said somewhat roughly. "The red one." Confused, Ryou opened, withdrawing the small box amid the mess of treasures, giving Bakura a confused look. "Open it."

"... Oh." Ryou blinked as he did so, staring down at the ring. It was of an incredibly large diamond, with a massive ruby on each side, glittering cheerfully up at him in a gold band. "What is this?"

"My mothers' engagement ring." Bakura sighed. "The most prized thing I own." Ryou sat on the edge of the bed again, staring at the ring. Bakura kept his gaze trained on Ryou's face. "I want you to have it."

"_What?"_ Ryou gasped, looking Bakura full in the face. "Y-You mean..."

"Yes." It was probably the alcohol talking more than anything else, but Bakura genuinely believed in what he was doing, thought it was right. "I want you to have it. I know it's not your necklace, but it's the best I can give."

"Bakura, I cannot..." Ryou breathed, lost for words. "Y-You..."

"I mean it." Bakura argued, slowly withdrawing one arm from the blankets. He clumsily took the ring from the box, and with his other hand, took Ryou's slender fingers. "I honestly want you to have it."

"This was your _mothers_." Ryou whispered as Bakura took his left hand, staring in shock as Bakura slipped it onto his fourth finger, his hands slightly shaking. "I cannot accept this..."

"It's my fault you lost what was most dear to you." Bakura argued. "It's only fair you get mine in return."

"Oh, Bakura..." Ryou stared at the ring on his finger. "This is.... This is far too much!"

"Nah." Bakura mumbled, his eyes closed again. He felt groggy, sleepy. "I'd give you the world if I had half the chance..."

"What?" Ryou blinked, looked up. "Wh-What do you mean by that?"

"MMmmm...." Bakura groaned, already in the throes of sleep once more. His hands trembling, Ryou watched as Bakura gently sunk into the soft waves of slumber, instigated by the strong alcohol and blood loss.

"Oh, Bakura." Ryou looked down at the ring, thinking he might cry. "You should not have done this." But all the same, Ryou was positively glowing inside. Part of Ryou's reluctance to allow closeness to Bakura was his distrust, he was unsure of how much Bakura spoke was true. But to give him his mothers' ring...

_He has given me his most dear possession in the world._ Ryou looked from Bakura to the ring on his hand. _And he did not have to, he did not even sell my pendant, it was 'stolen'..._

_He deserves my love. _Ryou swallowed nervously. It was the very least Bakura deserved. _He feels so strongly for me. I never knew just how deep his feelings ran..._ He looked down at the sleeping man, who had taken a painful wound as a result of his protection of Ryou. Who had bought him books, held him in the nights, listened when he talked, talked while Ryou listened, engaged in stimulating intellectual discussion with him...

Ryou lay down on the bed, beside Bakura, his face resting against the pillow. He stared silently at Bakura, watched him drift the waves of a drunken sleep for almost fifteen minutes without moving an inch.

The feelings that stirred in Ryou's chest as he watched Bakura sleep didn't help matters much, either.

Conflicted, Ryou sat up again, biting his lip. He stared around the room, his yes landing on his heavy family Bible. _It is wrong, I know._ Ryou shifted his gaze to his books, his intellectual tomes of literature, history, philosophy. _How many of those men enjoyed the company of other males? _Ryou knew it was a considerable number. Were they entombed with the same moral, religious, conflict, as Ryou?

_Just because it was indulged by some great masters of thought, it does not make it right._ Ryou scolded himself. His gaze was drawn, like a magnet, back down to his hand, the glittering ring, the gift of love and devotion. For the first time, Ryou noticed that it was placed on the fourth finger of his left hand, the position of a wedding ring. _Does he intend to marry me? _No._ What a ridiculous concept._ Ryou shook his head. _He was drunk. He probably grabbed any finger at random. It could have just as likely landed on my thumb._

_But..._

Ryou toyed with the ring, and looked back down at Bakura. His lips were slightly parted, breath reeking of the vodka. All the same, Ryou dipped his head, studying the contours of Bakura's face in the golden light, the thin face, with slightly sunken cheeks, angular jawline, and cute, pointed little nose. His closed eyes showed the careworn lines etched lightly in the skin, a sign of premature ageing, probably brought about by intense stress. Bakura had certainly had a hard enough life....

Ryou ran a finger along Bakura's jaw. Unlike the others in the crew, save the effeminate Devlin, Bakura kept his face clean-shaven, like a boy. He'd claimed to Ryou, whilst shaving one morning, that a white beard aged him by about twenty years. And, as a result, refused to wear even the barest of stubbles.

He had an odd sort of beauty about him, Ryou concluded, his head now propped up by one hand, as he lay stretched out beside Bakura, still examining his angular features. He looked like an inverted mirror image of Ryou, lined where Ryou was smooth, lanky where he was rounded and full, features pulled down in anger, whilst Ryou's were naturally upturned in a smile. Despite their shared skin and hair colour, they looked so different.

But it was these differences that attracted Ryou to Bakura. His age, for example, the fact he was twelve years Ryou's senior, far from disturbing Ryou, drew his interest further. His hardened outlook on life, his experiences and escapades as a pirate, which had shaped his mentality and attitude, only made Ryou more fascinated. _Like Othello and Desdemona._

_But they ended in tragedy._ Ryou remembered, thinking about the play he was reading, that fateful night, when his village was attacked, and life inverted forever. Indeed, he was so anxious to know what had happened, that by the time he was halfway through Act III, he'd skipped to the end to know what happened, before returning to his original place in the narrative. _She was strangled in her bed by her lover, for unfaithfulness._

_Unfaithfulness._

Ryou shivered, at the thought of his kiss with Malik, his Cassio, upon the crows' nest, which that filthy Iago, Joey, had used as blackmail against him to abuse and molest him. What if Bakura had found out? _Would I be strangled in my bed? _ Ryou's fingers grazed his own throat, and he swallowed. _Would Joey poison him so? If he hated me enough, if I did enough to antagonize him, then perhaps he would._ Ryou returned his gaze, and hand, to Bakura, his tongue between his teeth. _Beware the green-eyed monster..._

_You would not kill me._ Ryou looked at Bakura. _Would you? You gifted me the most treasured thing you own. Such a present is not to be taken lightly._

_I am such a hypocrite._ Ryou realised, downcast. _After all that Bakura has done for me, how can I reject his love, especially after what I have done? _ It was against his will, but the sins had still purged and blackened his soul.

_But do I love him?_ Ryou's hand rested on Bakura's bare chest, which was half-exposed by the blankets. _I cannot offer him something which does not exist after all..._

_I think he is handsome._ Ryou blushed. _And we have the most stimulating conversations. He has held me like no one else before, and, at times, I found that... Soothing._

_And when I think about him... I..._ The familiar feeling of butterflies rose in his chest. He had tried to ignore it at first, but there was no doubt – they were growing stronger. Ryou was attracted to Bakura, for both looks _and _personality.

Ryou's hand drifted to Bakura's face again, where he brushed the soft white hair out of the captains eyes. It was holding Bakura's lifeless body, watching him go down, tending to him while he was injured, his terror Bakura would die, that had really brought these feelings out into the open, Ryou had realised, with an increasing flutter in his stomach. _They do say that a near-death experience does bring people closer..._

_Oh dear..._

Ryou closed his eyes, sighed, then opened them again. Bakura's lips were still parted, his head had lolled to the side, towards Ryou.

_I am a damned soul anyways._

Feeling as though his heart would burst, it was crammed with so many emotions, Ryou closed the small gap between their lips with a feather-light kiss.

* * *

Everyone say it with me...

Aawwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Now R&R?


	23. Chapter 23

Heyyy!!

Sorry about the lateness, I didn't mean to leave it this long... Life has just been hectic and argh.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

"Oh Seto, do you know what would be an absolutely _smashing_ idea, jolly old chum?"

"Don't even talk to me..."

"How about we get a rather small ship, fill it with incapable naval men, and attempt to invade a pirate ship without any advice from the main strategist!"

"I told you not to talk to me!" Seto hollered, standing up and kicking the bars. "Shut the bloody hell up!"

"Truth hurts, doesn't it." Atemu sat on the floor of his cell, arms and legs crossed. "If you'd have listened to me-"

"It would not have made a difference!" Seto shot back in a shout. "We were overwhelmed, you idiot! Everyone underestimated this ragtag bunch of vagabonds!" He leaned against the bars of his cage, head in his hands. He felt sick.

"Bet you didn't expect to ruin your career so young, either." Atemu remarked, peering through the gloom at the shadowy figure of Seto. A small lantern had been lit, which hung on the wall.

"Don't remind me." Seto raked his fingers through his already unkempt hair. "Jesus Christ... Even if I make it out of here alive, I would be kicked out of the country, my brother pulled from school, my property handed to the crown..."

"Ouch." Atemu muttered. "You knew all this. You were greedy."

"All right, yes! I was greedy!" Seto rounded on the Egyptian. "How the hell can you sit there and be so calm! You're in just as much trouble as I am!"

"Oh, hardly." He droned. "I'm the son of the governor of Egypt, remember? Unlike you, I am important, and irreplaceable. My father will bargain to get me out."

"Oh, sure." Seto said nastily. "But what if he does not do so?"

"There's no reason for him to not." Atemu said evenly. "Do not attempt to foist your discomfort off on me."

"Just, for the love of _God_, please stop TALKING!" Seto's voice rose with every syllable, until he was essentially screaming at the man, steeped deep in frustration and despair.

"Would you rather sit in silence?" Atemu raised an eyebrow. "Bickering is much more amusing, is it not?"

"No!" Seto shot back, eyes narrowed. "Look. I have _enough_ on my plate right now, without you and your smart-aleck comments! So do me a favour, and keep your big mouth _shut!"_

"Not in the mood for talking." Atemu murmured, before settling into a broody silence.

* * *

When Ryou pushed open the bedroom door at a quarter to one in the morning, the deck was just as loud, and raucous as before. Feeling a little afraid, he closed the door behind himself, lowering his head as he made his way across the floorboards. The truth was, he was hungry and thirsty, and if he said it was mainly for Bakura, they would be sure to give it to him, no?

However, as he crossed the deck, cautiously ducking and dodging the party, he found a familiar tanned figure with a mop of unruly blonde hair sitting by himself, away from the loud action, a rather large bottle in his hands.

"M-Malik?" Ryou called out, making his way towards the Egyptian. Malik looked up, and gae Ryou a rather morose wave, before returning to his torpor. "Malik, whatever is the matter?"

"What?" Ryou could immediately tell by his tone that Malik had had a little too much of whatever black substance was in the bottle. "Oh, nothing's wrong. Nothing, nothing, nothing..."

"But?" Ryou asked cautiously, looking around before taking a seat on the salty floorboards next to Malik.

"But we're all doomed." Malik mumbled, looking up at the sky. "Oh, we've _really_ done it now, Ryou. That's why I'm forcing this rot down, to try and forget... Although it's not really too bad, actually..."

"What do you _mean_?" Ryou pressed the boy for more answers, beginning to get worried. "Why are we doomed?"

"Ryou, did you not _see_ the man Bakura held prisoner?" There was almost a pleading tone in Maliks' voice. Ryou shook his head slowly. "Well, it was the bloody governor of Egypt's _son._ His son, Ryou! Egyptian royalty, more or less!"

"O-Oh." Ryou stammered, unsure of what to make with the news. "Well, I am sure that if you tell Bakura, he'll-"'

"He won't do a thing." Malik took another swig of the rum, making a face. "He won't do a damn thing. Meanwhile, I'm gonna have to be the one to give them food, Ryou! How the hell can I do that? How can I sit there and not try to help him escape! If I _don't_, then it's high treason against my nation! But if I do, then it's treason against Bakura... Oh bloody hell..."

"Well..." Ryou looked thoughtful. "Just think of it this way. Who are you more scared of when they are blindingly angry? Bakura, or the Governor of Egypt?"

"... Bakura." Malik muttered, rubbing at his eyes. "And besides, Joey would do his nut and probably go insane on me and kill me anyways, if I did anything. I'm just so _trapped_ Ryou? What do I do? What the hell do I do?"

"Well, first thing is, you can stop drinking." Ryou gently took the bottle from Maliks' hand. "The second thing is to go and sleep this off. Look. Um, how about I bring the food and water to the prisoners? If you are not seen by him, then he will not know you exist, and besides, if you never see him yourself, then you can easily say you never knew he was on board."

"But he has seen me." Malik moaned. "In Bakura's room, remember?"

"Oh, that does not count." Ryou waved it away. "Look, he was far too focused on Bakura at the time, he wouldn't have spared you a glance. Do not worry about this, all right?"

"... Yeah." Ryou squeaked as Malik wrapped him in a tight hug. "Thanks Ryou, you're really the best."

"I try." Ryou blushed as Malik embraced him.

* * *

"Can you _stop pacing_!" Seto raged at Atemu, clinging at the bars tightly. "I mean, seriously! Come on! You are simply doing this to antagonize me!"

"I am actually trying to think." Atemu murmured. "You see, unlike you, I have a suitable head on my shoulders and can think up a way to escape."

"Oh, yes." Seto muttered. "Escape from _this_. I would like to see that. And even so, what the hell are we going to do when we get out? Somehow take this ship and capture the captain? No fear!"

"The captain is fighting for his life, perhaps dead." Atemu said smoothly.

"What, Bakura? The white haired man?"

"Of course I mean him." Atemu snapped. "I managed to land a blow on the men I fight, as opposed to prancing about like you..."

"Oh, whatever." Seto snapped at him. "I bet you stabbed him when he wasn't looking. Look, even if the captains down, he's got a first mate. And from what I've seen, he is not a man to be trifled with. I just want to know if Ryou is here and alive. Perhaps he can help us..." Atemu bit back a smile.

"Oh, but he _is_ here." He smirked. "I saw him."

"You did?" Seto started. "A fifteen-year-old boy, long white hair, looks like a woman?"

"One and the same." His smile widened, although Seto couldn't see it in the weak light. "He pulled a gun at me."

"He _what?"_ Seto frowned. "Not Ryou, he would never!"

"Oh, yes, he did." Atemu leaned against the wall thoughtfully, his hands in his pockets. "I think you are quite confused about where his loyalties lie..."

"They lie with me!" Seto growled. "With the King and Crown and England! Ryou would not give that up and join a band of filthy pirates!"

"Is this not the same boy that suffered exile from your oh-so-beloved King?" Atemu pointed out. "What would England have left to offer him?" Seto simply looked at him, rather lost for words. "Exactly."

"No." Seto said firmly. "I knew him. Quite well. And I know that he would never do that."

"Desperation may push him." Atemu noted. "Look, I know what I saw. And I saw a boy willing to kill me for attacking the captain of this ship."

"You..." Seto sighed, and slid against the wall, his head in his hands. "Oh _hell."_ He groaned, his hands trembling. Just before the pair were about to sink into a miserable silence once more, however, the door creaked open, and a small figure stepped into the room. Originally, Seto didn't pay any heed to the noise, too sunk into his own moody thoughts, but a small voice in the gloom made him start.

"E-Er, hello. I am dreadfully that this took so long, but I did not dare to attempt to pilfer any food... I managed to convince Joey that you needed food, but it is naught but a hunk of bread and some porridge... I know that this is unacceptable for a man of your standing and I wish I could do more..." Atemu stared as Ryou slid the small plates through the bars of the cage, a mug of rather stale water following.

"Ryou." Seto slowly stood up in disbelief, and Ryou jumped, turning to find Seto's hands on the bars, staring at him in the weak light.

"... Seto." The bottom felt as though it dropped out of Ryou's stomach. "What... are..."

"I was the captain of the ship that tried to attack." Seto explained hurriedly. "But... Oh, are you all right?"

"Y-Yes, I am..." Ryou stuttered, hardly believing what he was seeing. "B-but... I..."

"Good. Ryou, you have to listen to me." Seto kept his voice low and urgent. "You have to help me escape. If it is timed excellently, then it can be done, and you can be freed. All you have to do is get for me a sword, a dagger, and two guns, at least, with which I can arm myself sufficiently. In the dead of night, if you could subdue or drug the watchman, and release me and my colleague from these cells, we can load one of the lifeboats with supplies, and take it upon the water. The coast is not far, and if we have several hours leeway, we would make it with luck, even with the faster speed of the-"

"No." Ryou managed to cut over Seto, both his lip, and words, trembling. "Seto... I-I cannot..."

"Ryou, what are you talking about!" Seto growled. "You have to help me! Look at what I did for you! If you do not help me then-"

"I must go." Ryou said abruptly, and then stood up. He backed away, and ran, out of the room, fleeing the scene as fast as he could, the door closing behind him. His heart thudding, Ryou leaned against the wood, shaking.

_Seto... He was the one that attacked the ship. He did it to rescue me. He... put the lives of all those men in danger. They all died... For me._ Ryou swallowed deeply. _I am responsible for this... _He felt sick. _What have I done? Sixty men died... Seto is imprisoned... _He let out a long sigh, and, legs still shaking, made his way back up on to the main deck. The crew were still offloading from the recently invaded ship, massive casks of water, barrels of gunpowder, and the like, as well as luxury items, spotless white linens, fine, spindly furniture and thick, downy blankets. The lesser items the crew fought over, little brass ornaments, shirts, and the like. A small stack caught Ryou's eye, and the boy lit up as another armload of books were dumped onto the pile, which contained more than a dozen tomes.

"Oh, my!" Ryou crouched beside the books, eyes wide. "Cervante's _Don Quixote_, Honoré d'Urfé's _L'Astrée, _Barclay's _Agenis_..."

"What the 'ell?" Ryou jumped up, and found Joey hovering over him, one eyebrow raised. "Whut yer doin'?"

"I-I was merely perusing these titles out of interest..." Ryou stammered. "I-I-"

"Huh." Joey kicked at the pile of books, earning a wince from Ryou. "Useless bits of paper. Use 'em on t' fire, Devlin."

"No!" Ryou burst out, and all those in the vicinity froze, as Ryou in-avertedly challenged the acting captain of the ship.

"What." He took a step towards Ryou. "Did." His voice grew lower, frighteningly threatening. "You." Ryou took a step back. "Say?"

"W-Well..." Ryou swallowed, and tried to stand his ground. "I-It's just... These are very expensive books... Most are not even in English. Y-You could not think of burning them, surely!"

"I shoulda known ya were a nosy little bookworm." Joey sneered, quite cruelly, and the rest of the crew laughed. "Ever get ya stupid little head outta the books and had a look at t' world?" Ryou's face was flushed a deep crimson, and Malik looked up from the crate he was poring through, hands clenching.

"How _dare_ you accuse me of stupidity!" Ryou's pent up anger had gotten the best of him. Anger, not just at the crude insult, but at Joey's abuse, his blackmail, his lies, every little thing that he was constantly doing to keep Ryou in a state of discomfort, was bursting out of him. "A filthy, disgusting _peasant_ like yourself, thinking that you are somehow better than someone with an education and standing as mine? Oh, I bet you're so bitter towards literature because you can't even sign your own name, let alone read a single page!" Malik's eyes widened, the rest of the crew waited with bated breath for the attack. Joey Wheeler would never let such an angry rant towards him pass unnoticed.

"_You!"_ He didn't disappoint. Joey grabbed Ryou by the throat, his nails digging hard into the soft white skin as he strangled Ryou, almost blind in his rage. "I'll teach _you_, ya little shit!"

"Joey, stop!" Malik grabbed at the mans' arm desperately. "He didn't mean it. Stop it, you're going to kill him!" Ryou scrabbled desperately at the hands squeezing his throat, his clipped nails raking ineffectually over tough, weathered skin. Devlin aided the Egyptian, both grabbing one arm each. "Come on!"

"Joey!" Devlin pleaded. "For Gods' sake, you'll kill him!" His cheeks slowly growing blue, Ryou squirmed and struggled desperately in the mans' hold, but to no avail. Finally, however, Joey let the boy go, Ryou slumping to the floorboards, coughing and choking.

"_Never."_ He wrenched his arms free of Malik and Devlin, stomping very close to Ryou. "Speak t' me like that again." He didn't need to further the threat, Ryou understood very clearly. Malik grabbed at Ryou's arm, and hauled him to a standing position.

"He won't." Malik started to back away very quickly, Ryou weakly obeying the boy. Malik made his way towards Bakura's room, aware of the pairs of eyes that followed him, and sighed deeply in relief as he managed to shut the door, Ryou taking a very shaky seat on the edge of the bed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Malik gasped, trying to keep his voice down for the sake of Bakura, who was still asleep. "You can't just go talking to Joey like that, it's suicide! He could have really hurt you, Ryou."

"I-I know." Ryou rubbed at his neck. "But... He was..."

"A total bastard, I know." Malik said patiently, "But he was about to strangle you, you idiot. Just keep your mouth shut around him if you know what's good for you."

"Malik-"

"I have to go." Malik stood up abruptly. "I'm not angry at you, just worried. And I got a lot of work to do, all right? Just try and keep in here, and I'll come back in an hour in case you or Bakura need anything."

"... All right." Ryou eventually nodded, smiling weakly as Malik left the room. As the door was closed softly, Ryou flopped down on the bed, staring dejectedly up at the ceiling. He was still as angry as ever with Joey, although obviously being terrified towards him. And Seto... Ryou rolled over onto his side, guilt-ridden. _How on earth can I make this right? How can I let him go free without people realising that all of these deaths are my fault?_

"Ryou?" Bakura mumbled, earning a gasp from the teenager. "You there?"

"Y-Yes I am." Ryou smiled weakly, and sat up. "You've been asleep for a long time. It's just gone nine."

"Mmmm, I needed it." Bakura's eyelids cracked open, and he gazed at Ryou. "How are you?"

"I am fine." Ryou lied. "Look, there is no need to worry about me. How are you faring? Is there anything you require? You must be starving..."

"I can manage." Bakura slowly sat up, wincing a little. "You're pale. More so than normal I mean. What's wrong?"

"I said, nothing!" Ryou sounded testier than he meant to, and sighed. "I mean, nothing." He said in a gentler tone. "Just a little tired I guess." He looked over to Bakura, something warming in his stomach. "I did not sleep very well."

"Come here." Bakura gestured, and Ryou obediently shuffled across the bed, and rested his head on the mans' shoulder. "I hope it wasn't due to me."

"It was not, please do not worry." Ryou smiled a little as Bakura wrapped his arms around his slim shoulders.

"Feeling better?" Bakura teased, giving the boy a small peck on the tip of his head.

"Oh, very funny." Ryou's eyes were already half-lidded. "You are such a hoot."

"Oh, I know I am." Bakura teased, and wrapped his arms a little tighter around the boy. "Sleep."

"... All right." Ryou forced down a yawn. Already, he felt calmer, lying in Bakura's arms. _What do I have to worry about?_ Ryou wondered. _Bakura would never let anything happen to me. Never. Unless..._ His stomach tightened a little as he thought of what Joey knew. The kiss. The stupid unrequited kiss.

"Bakura, did you ever read _Othello?"_ Ryou asked, seemingly out of the blue. Bakura blinked.

"No, but I saw it performed, several times." He frowned. "Why?"

"... When Othello kills Desdemona for being supposedly unfaithful, is it the right thing for him to do?"

"Of course not." Bakura's frown deepened. "He was an idiot. Anyone could see she was completely faithful."

"No, no, I do not mean it like that. I mean..." Ryou let out a long sigh. "Hypothetically, even if she really did sleep with Cassio, did she deserve to die for it?"

"Ah." Bakura was still as confused as ever. "Well... She most definitely didn't deserve to be smothered. But in some countries, adultery is punishable by death."

"So she did deserve to die." Ryou felt a little cold inside.

"No, I never said that." Bakura said defensively. "She didn't, just because someone isn't faithful, it doesn't mean they should die. I'd like to think the human life is a little more worthy than that."

"But you kill people all the time." Ryou pointed out, significantly more relieved.

"Only because if I didn't, they would kill me in a heartbeat." Bakura pointed out. "I don't do it willingly. What brought all of this on?"

"Nothing." Ryou lied. "I was just wondering." His eyes were closed by this point, and he felt considerably sleepier.

"Silly." Bakura sighed, and he waited until Ryou was asleep before reaching for the bottle of vodka.

* * *

"Talk."

Seto only eyed the blonde with intense dislike, his arms tied behind him, bound firmly to the chair.

"Oh, I will not speak a word to you." He snarled. "Or your captain. You are wasting your time, attempting to interrogate me."

"Oh, these'll be more than attempts." Joey rested a hand on his sheathed sword. "Who sent ya!"

"No one." Seto said calmly.

"Liar." Joey hissed. "Ya too young t' have any real power in t' navy. Who sent ya?"

"How do you know I am not?" Seto was slightly affronted. "I could thirty for all you know."

"Ha!" Joey only ran a finger along Seto's completely unbearded jawline. "I say again." He narrowed his eyes. "Who sent ya?"

"And _I _shall say again," Seto repeated. "No one."

"So, ya did this all yourself?" Joey started to walk back and forth, starting to get agitated.

"I never said that." Seto smirked. "Look, you can keep this up all you like, I am not going to tell you a single thing."

"Ya think that you're bein' funny?" Joey raged. "Playin' this game?" Seto only shrugged, and with a fit of rage, Joey grabbed the male by his hair, and, forcing his head back, Joey pressed the sharp blade of his dagger against Seto's throat. "Listen." He muttered, in a very low voice, his lips less than an inch from the brunette's ear. "I wanna know why ya attacked us. Tell, or else..."

"You would not." Seto growled. "Kill me, and you will learn nothing."

"Oh?" Joey raised an eyebrow. "What 'bout your friend in t' cells..."

"Just my second-in-command." Seto said calmly, knowing how stupid it would be to reveal Atemu's identity. "Nothing more."

"I bet 'e'll talk, though." Joey muttered in a low voice, the blade still very close to Seto's throat. "Spit it out."

"... No." Seto wondered how long this would go on for. Really, this young man was so rudimentary and crude in his interrogation, lacking in any real sophistication and creativity. Were all of the crew members this ineloquent?

"... Fine." Joey relented, and straightened himself. "Hunger and thirst'll make ya talk." He gave Devlin a nod, then left the tiny, dimly-lit room, the door slamming shut behing him.

"What a marvellous character." Seto remarked to the near-empty room. "Please tell me your captain is a little less brutish."

"No comment." Devlin muttered. He cut half of the bonds, leaving Seto still tied, and grabbed him by his rather dirty collar, the dagger still in his hand. "C'mon." Seto rolled his eyes as he was roughly pushed out of the room, but had sank into deep thought. Really, he was disappointed, of sorts, that he wasn't able to meet Bakura, whom he could have perhaps gotten on with a lot better, as he was renowned as being more articulate, and calculating than the average brutish pirate.

"Hands out." Atemu shook his head as Seto was shoved back into his cells, and at Devlin's command, Seto silently extended his arms through the bars of the cell, the ropes sliced off of his bony wrists. Seto and Atemu both watched as Devlin left the cells silently, then Seto let out a long sigh, leaning against the wall.

"Went well?" Atemu smirked, then took a seat on the floor, looking thoughtful.

"You could say." Seto hated talking to the stuck-up prick, but in such reduced circumstances, he didn't have anyone else to talk to. "That blonde mans' a common brute. How he rose to be first mate I have no idea..." He shook his head. "I told him nothing. And if he asks about you, do not say who you are."

"What do you take me for?" Atemu sounded quite disgusted. "I'm not an idiot. Look, if we can hold out for a little bit longer, then maybe we will be all right."

"Oh, they will not kill us... Yet." Seto stared at the single lantern on the wall. "If they find out about why we are here, they will kill Ryou." He sounded regretful. "I have put him in more trouble than if I stayed."

"Personally, I think he should." Atemu grumbled. "That little brat is caused all of this trouble."

"No." Seto snarled. "He had nothing to do with it. I am the one that thought a navy of sixty men could overpower two dozen pirates."

"We would have been quite all right if you had listen to me-"

"Do _not_ start that again!" Seto growled, teeth gritted. "God_damn_, you will not let up on this!"

"Not until I am free from this dismal prison." Atemu found his fingernails interesting. "I _will_ get off of this cursed ship, Seto. With or without you."

"... You devious bastard." Seto's voice was low and cold. "If you get Ryou in trouble-"

"To be perfectly honest, I could not care less about the boy." Atemu muttered. "Now, you listen to me, Seto. Because of your ignorance, your arrogance, and your detestable pride, you have managed to lose a crew of sixty men, have a fine English naval ship stripped and more likely than not sunk, and have landed the both of us in a near-inescapable prison. I did_ not_ sign up to become anybody's prisoner. And I will not be treated like a mangy cur any longer."

"Yeah? Well, good luck with that." Seto's boiling rage was muffled by his incomprehensible feeling of futility. "You will never get off. Neither of us will."

"That's what you think." Atemu's brow was furrowed, sunk very deep in thought.

* * *

"Hello?" Malik gently tapped on the bedroom door, then pushed it open. "You awake?"

"Yes." Bakura waved as Malik entered the room, one hand behind his back. "Ryou, you've been asleep for over an hour. Wake up now."

"Mmm..." Ryou mumbled weakly, eyes still closed. "Soon..."

"I have something for you." Malik gently sat on the edge of the bed. "I managed to save it."

"Wh-what?" Ryou rubbed at his eyes, and slowly sat up. "What is it?" He perked up as Malik revealed the book, his eyes lighting up. "Oh!"

"I grabbed the closest one while Joey's back was turned." Malik explained. "He didn't miss it, and Devlin carted them downstairs a few moments later." Ryou took the book eagerly. "But I must stupider than I thought... I can't even read a word." He sighed, eyes downcast.

"Oh, Malik." Ryou shook his head, staring at the title, while Bakura looked on in interest, vaguely tipsy. "Of course you could not read it." He showed Malik the title. "_Don Quixote _is a Spanish Romance. Not a single word is in English."

"O-Oh!" Malik blushed, scratching the back of his head. "That's why..."

"Yes." Ryou leafed through the book. "I wish I could also... But Spanish was never taught to me, other than the necessary basics."

"I can read it." Bakura offered, breaking into the conversation. Ryou looked over at the man in surprise. "My family was Catholic, of course I learned Spanish-"

"_What?_" Ryou was surprised. "You never told me that you were raised in a Catholic family..."

"It wasn't important." Bakura shrugged. "I don't believe in all that bitter enmity between Catholics and Protestants. You don't, do you? I thought you were smarter than that."

"I... Of course I do not." Ryou finished lamely, his cheeks flushing. Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"I have to go." Malik announced, standing up. He gave the pair a small smile before leaving the room quietly.

"You have a problem with it." Bakura noted, shaking his head.

"N-No, I do not." Ryou protested. Bakura only snorted. "What?"

"Like I said, I couldn't care less." Bakura murmured. "I don't think I have a shred of faith left, to be honest."

"... Oh." Ryou's voice was very small and weak, and he looked down at his hands. He was still nervous, a product of his soft, adventurous kiss the night before, and feel unsure of himself, of what he should do.

"You're awkward." Bakura noted, sitting up properly. "What are you not telling me? Come now, spill it." Ryou looked away, hands twisting and turning in his lap. "Ryou, what is it? I thought that we would be past all of this discomfort. What's wrong?"

"... I kissed you." Ryou eventually raised his eyes, but not yet able to look Bakura in the eye. Bakura stilled. "Last night... When you were asleep."

"Oh." Something trilled in Bakura's chest, although he forced it down. "And did you... Like it? What?"

"... Yes." Ryou's voice was very small, his face red. "I am beginning to think that my original judgements of you... May be inaccurate."

"Well, that's always nice to hear." Bakura wore a wide smile. Ryou sat next to him, eyes still lowered. "Then... Is it all right for me to kiss you?"

"Wh-What?" Ryou looked up, his blush deepening.

"Is it all right for me to-"

"No, no, I heard you, It is just a... surprise." Ryou murmured. "I have never heard you ask for permission before..."

"So, is that a yes?" Bakura ventured a hopeful guess, his eyes never leaving Ryou's face.

"Yes." Ryou blurted out, his face positively flaming. His heartbeat quickened as Bakura leaned in gently, the fingertips of his right hand cupping his jawbone. Their lips met softly, Ryou's heart thrumming with pleasure. Still incredibly nervous, Ryou's hands rested on Bakura's legs, feeling clumsy, awkward, unsure. But as Bakura tilted his head a little and deepened the kiss, all trepidation dissolved, and Ryou opened his mouth to Bakura's intrusion, the pirate captains' bony hand on his cheek. All too soon, it seemed, Ryou pulled away reluctantly, his breathing coming out in deep sighs, face still as crimson as ever.

"You have the cutest blush." Bakura noted with a smirk, one finger trailing along Ryou's cheek. "Is kissing me so embarrassing?"

"N-No." Ryou shook his head. "I-I am just... a little nervous."

"Oh! Well, there is no need to be." Bakura said. "You feeling better?"

"I have been for a while now." Ryou admitted, tracing a pattern on the quilt. "You have an odd charm about you, Bakura. It is strangely compelling."

"Glad to know I'm so attractive." Bakura teased. "And you're a complete stunner yourself. Honestly, Ryou, I don't think I've ever laid eyes on someone as beautiful as you before."

"You are simply trying to flatter me." Ryou protested, but the blush was back in full force. Bakura shook his head, one hand still on Ryou's face.

"I am not. Your skin, hair, eyes, voice, lips... It's like you should be carved from marble or in a painting." Bakura said softly, almost dreamlike in his tone. "Everything about you is so sweet and gentle and perfect. Why you chose to be around a dirty old pirate like me, I'll never know."

"Because you are more than a dirty old pirate" Ryou argued. "You're a handsome, charismatic, intelligent man, with a hard past. You have flaws, yes, but so does every human. And that you acknowledge, and address some of them, as opposed to caving in to arrogance, is admirable."

"... Thank you, Ryou." He leaned in even closer, their noses a minute distance apart. "Say... Is it all right for me to kiss you again?"

"... Yes." And this time, it was Ryou who took the plunge, tilting his head forward and closing his eyes.

* * *

Awwwh!

FLUFF!

Savour it while it lasts MUAHAHAHAHA!

-cough- anyways.

R&R?


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